


Do Not Go Quietly into That Good Night

by NeuroWriter14



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, And not of fun, Aspects of grooming, Do not repost, Eventual Dark!Harry, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), I play fast and loose with this thing called time, M/M, Powerful Harry, Slytherin Harry Potter, There’s a surprise coming, Toxic Relationship, someone’s gonna die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 61,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14
Summary: Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Though wise men at their end know dark is right,Because their words had forked no lightning theyDo not go gentle into that good night.Good men, the last wave by, crying how brightTheir frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,Do not go gentle into that good night.Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sightBlind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,Rage, rage against the dying of the light.And you, my father, there on the sad height,Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.Do not go gentle into that good night.Rage, rage against the dying of the lightORAfter the death of Lily, James fled with an infant Harry in tow. James raised his son as best he could only for Voldemort to take over and groom what he hoped would be the perfect weapon.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Past James Potter/Lily Evans Potter - Relationship, minor Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini - Relationship
Comments: 124
Kudos: 641
Collections: Harry Potter





	1. Prologue

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

Voldemort closed the book with a thump, letting the dust from the pages fly into the air and settle again. Though there were several others in the room, they dared not make a sound, they dared not breathe. He could hear the sounds of Nagini's scales moving as she adjusted herself, but the rest of the world was silent, waiting for him to shatter it. He took in a breath and then another, inhaling the books around him and the smell of the library. It was perhaps fate that he decided to hold the meeting in the massive library of Riddle Manor. The manor was his, for all intents and purposes, having belonged to his father and his father before him. Before he killed them both. Normally, he would ignore this connection to the muggles and the family who shunned him, but the Order was closing in and the last place Dumbledore would expect him to be was in the home of the man he hated.

Severus had run into the room with haste, spilling from his lips the prophecy which should spell his certain demise. And it probably would have, if he hadn't had the meeting in this house. How fortuitous that the family he hated provided him with his saving grace. Severus was still huffing when he had stood and pulled a book from the shelf. The book seemed to understand the gravity of the situation as it fell open to the page he was looking for. 

After some time he closed the book and turned back to his followers, sitting around the long table with bated breath. 

"What do you know of Greek mythology? Or Confucius?" He knew they were stunned by his question and none provided an answer. "In Greek mythology, there is a story of a man, a king, who is told his future is to be murdered by his son and his son will wed his wife." He explained. "Fearing his death, the man sends his son away in an attempt to kill him. But the son is spared and raised by another king in another kingdom. Some years later, the son asks for his future and is told he will murder his father and wed his mother. Disgusted, he leaves home to prevent it, but he meets a traveler on the road and kills him. Unbeknownst to him, the traveler is his father. He does indeed wed his mother and has children. Eventually, he learns the truth and blinds himself in regret."

Voldemort paused for a moment before continuing. "Confucius once said, 'Study the past if you would divine the future.'"

He tapped a long pale finger against his chin as he thought. 

"This could prove to my advantage," His mind started whirring.

"My lord?" Lucius asked, unable to follow his train of thought.

"Dumbledore will be counting on my reaction to the prophecy to spell my demise. He expects I will react to not knowing that my actions will have disastrous consequences for me in the future. But I was always a good student."

He let his mind wander for a moment before dismissively waving his hand. He had to plan and any plan would require all the right pieces put into place. 

The days passed and winter bled into spring.

"Tell me what you know of your Mudblood friend. She has a child, does she not? Born at the end of July."

He watched the fear play in Severus's eyes. "Yes, my lord." The man said carefully. "But I don't believe it could be her child."

"And why not?"

"There is another born at the end of July, to Frank and Alice Longbottom."

"A pureblood, yes," Voldemort said quietly.

Severus carefully hid his emotions, but Voldemort knew better. The potions maker would scurry off to Dumbledore the moment he was dismissed. 

He was right, of course. Not long after, the Potters went into hiding. Battle after battle, Order against Death Eaters. The wizarding world was torn apart and the Potters knew Voldemort was hunting them. He was certain he had lost them, his plan had failed until the rats decided to abandon the sinking ship.

The room was dark, with only candles lighting its depths. He sat behind a massive, mahogany desk. On his right stood Bellatrix, tall and proud. On his left stood Lucius, every bit the pureblood Voldemort craved. And in front of him was a sniveling man, curled into a ball on the floor. Barty rolled his eyes behind him, his hands folded behind his back. Pettigrew raised his head to look at him, but immediately curled himself back into a ball and began whimpering once more. His mousey brown hair rubbed against the floor with his shaking. Voldemort idly wondered how he had managed to enter the room in the first place. Perhaps Barty rolled him in. He had only entered after the man was cowering on the floor. 

"Is there something you wish to say or would you prefer to continue to tell your whimpers to the floor." 

Pettigrew raised his head once more, whimpering and shaking as he did. "M-my lord," He began only to have Bellatrix hiss in response.

"How dare you?" She stepped forward, eyes blazing with hatred. "How dare you presume to call him _your_ Lord. You haven't the right!"

He reached out and pressed a hand to her arm, stopping her anger in its tracks. She moved back to his side and her former tirade seemingly forgotten. He looked back to Pettigrew who by some miracle looked more afraid. 

"Continue."

"My-" He stopped himself and seemingly receded into his shirt before continuing. "I-I know where the Potters are." He winced as though he had been hit, but no one in the room moved.

" _You_ know where the Potters are?" Voldemort asked, drawing out every word in the sentence to show his disbelief.

"Y-yes." 

On either side, Bellatrix and Lucius began to laugh.

" _He_ knows where the Potters are? Him?" Bellatrix cackled. "He doesn't know where he placed his guts much less where the Potters are."

"My Lord," Lucius said smoothly at his side. "The Potters both are well known for their skills. James Potter is an exceptional wizard and adept at magic. Lily Potter neé Evans is a master potioneer who rivals Severus in many ways. I doubt this whimpering mess of a man could be trusted with their whereabouts."

He raised his hand, a cue they took to silence themselves immediately. Voldemort stood and breezed past Bellatrix, who shuddered at his nearness. 

"How would you know where the Potters are?" He asked quietly.

Pettigrew looked around the room at Bellatrix, Lucius, Nagini, and eventually Voldemort before shaking even more.

"I-I am their Secret Keeper."

"You?" Bellatrix asked once again in disbelief. "I thought it would be that no good cousin of mine."

"My dear Bella does bring up a point," Voldemort said as he neared Pettigrew. "We thought for certain it would be Sirius Black. I will need to see if what you say is true."

His hand moved faster than Pettigrew, grasping the other by the chin and forcing their eyes to meet. Pettigrew's mind was easy to infiltrate. It reminded him oddly of a rat, and as he searched the man's memories, he understood why. 

A memory surfaced of three boys, himself included, changing into the forms of animals. One was obviously James Potter, easy to recognize for that wild hair of his. The other was Sirius Black, who had many of the features Voldemort had seen on Bellatrix. Together the three ran into the woods, following the sounds of a werewolf. 

The memory changed and he saw a young woman with vibrant red hair and stunning emerald eyes staring down at a sack of blankets with a face. She turned it slightly so he could see. It was a baby and when its eyes blinked open, he could see they were the exact color of the Killing Curse. The baby offered a toothless smile before reaching up and stretching before letting out a yawn. 

The memory changed once more to the slightly older versions of James Potter and Sirius Black sitting with Pettigrew and Dumbledore. 

"They will expect that I am the Secret Keeper," Black said before his eyes turned to Pettigrew. "You should be the Secret Keeper."

Dumbledore's sparkling eyes followed the sentence from behind half-moon glasses. 

"Him?" James asked skeptically.

"Yes!" Sirius exclaimed. "It's perfect you see. They won't expect him." He turned to Pettigrew. "All you have to do is keep your head down until the war's over."

Pettigrew nodded slightly but before he could give a verbal answer, a child barreled into the room, chasing a ginger cat. 

"Harry James Potter, you get back here!" A voice called. But there was no malice behind it. Only slight exasperation and something else Voldemort couldn't identify.

Lily Potter appeared in the room and she shared a knowing glance with her husband. 

"Might as well induct him into the Order now with how determined he is to be in Order meetings." Lily huffed.

James stood from the table. "Leave him, I'll get him. You should be here." He pressed a kiss to her cheek before following the running toddler from the room.

Voldemort withdrew from Pettigrew's mind and the man fell into a heap on the floor.

"It appears he is telling the truth," Voldemort said quietly, feeling the excitement bubble off Lucius and Bellatrix behind him. He knelt next to Pettigrew who shook violently on the floor. "Now tell me, Wormtail," The man's eyes widened at the name, "Where are Lily, James, and Harry Potter?"


	2. In the Beginning

Harry's feet landed on the hard pavement. He drew in a sharp breath of cold air which burned as it moved down his throat and into his lungs. Next to him, his father huffed just as much as they ran side by side. James seemed to be lost in thought as they ran. The morning sunlight lit the ends of his wild hair and his hazel eyes turned gold. They stayed even with each other as they moved through the street before James bumped his shoulder slightly, nudging him off the pavement and onto dirt. They followed a path that began to narrow with overgrown bushes and trees, the branches brushing their arms like a lover's caress. Harry pulled ahead of his father as the path shifted and a river appeared at their sides. He listened to the sounds of running water as he moved, the world fading away except for the burn of the run and the trickle of water.

A hand gripped his shoulder and he was pulled to a halt. He nearly jumped out of his skin before he turned to face his father.

"You did it again," James said quietly. 

Harry let out a sigh and nodded. Around them, the world began to wake up as birds started singing in the trees. The sun crept further up the sky, over the hills, and set the water alight. Together the two of them began to walk, continuing along their journey. The path curved once more, away from the river, until they were nearing a small cottage. The path turned to stone and stone gave way to a wooden porch that spanned the front of the cottage. As far as homes go, it was incredibly cozy. Harry and James had lived there for years, along with their rather grumpy ginger cat.

Harry pulled his shirt from his waist and slipped it back over his head as they entered the wooden doorway of the stone cottage. James moved to the small kitchen and turned on the water before taking a handful and splashing it on his face. He gasped and dropped his hands on the ledge of the sink. Harry moved to the window and dropped onto the padded seat. The cat lifted her head and slowly blinked her green eyes at him before curling into a ball. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" James asked as he moved closer, running a towel along his tired face. Harry shook his head and looked back out the window again, watching the birds fly in and out of trees. "Harry," James began as he dropped into a chair near him. "Shutting me out won't help you." 

"There's nothing to talk about," Harry said quietly. "I just got caught up in listening to the water."

"Is that all?" James asked quietly. 

"Yes," Harry answered, reaching out and stroking the cat's fur. "I promise if there's anything else, I will tell you." 

James evaluated him for a second before leaning back in the chair and pulling his foot onto his knee. "Very well. But there is something we should talk about."

Harry let out a sigh. "I was hoping to avoid this topic for a few more days."

"We don't have a few more days," James said quietly. "You're going back to Hogwarts in a week."

Harry dropped his hand away from the cat and it landed on the windowsill with a thump. "I know."

"And you'll see _him_ again." James continued.

"I know," Harry repeated. 

"Can you handle that? Are you ready?"

Harry stared out the window once more, as a breeze began to stir the leaves of the trees. "I can handle it."

James nodded slightly and Harry stood from his seat. He walked through the house until he reached the table next to the door and grabbed a small pack off of it. He opened the front door once more and stepped foot outside. The air hit him immediately as he pulled a small, white object from the pack. To the casual observer, it would seem like a cigarette or a joint, and in fact, it resembled them both immensely. But the magical world had its fair share of drugs. It was called Lambs Wart, an herb extremely rare and known for its ability to calm the nerves and at high doses, the senses. James stepped out onto their porch as a small bluebell jumped to life in the palm of Harry's hand. He watched the flame for a moment before lighting the end of Lambs Wart and closing his fist around the flame, extinguishing it completely. 

He sucked down one breath and then another as he leaned on the wooden railing. James leaned against the pole next to him and crossed his arms. 

"We need to talk about it," James said.

Harry nodded and swallowed thickly before taking another drag. "What do you want to know?"

"The truth."

* * *

"Hadrian Krínos." A voice called.

Anxiety ran through his veins as he pushed through the crowd. He was smaller than the others, making it seem like the sea was parting as he stepped up to the stool. He turned and propped himself up on the stool as a large floppy hat was dropped onto his head, settling around his ears. He swallowed thickly as the hat began to whisper. He looked around but no one seemed to hear what the hat was saying, it spoke only to him.

"Mm, difficult." The hat hummed. "Very difficult. Plenty of courage I see. And not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself. Now that's interesting. So, where shall I put you?" Harry shuttered as the hat spoke. "Putting you in Slytherin could prove detrimental to you. After all, you are hiding, _Harry Potter._ " Harry froze but the hat continued. "However, putting you in Gryffindor could put you at risk as well, following in the footsteps of your father. I doubt you would flourish in Ravenclaw. Though you would in Slytherin."

The hat quieted for a second before a yell echoed through the Great Hall. "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry felt as though he was punched in the chest as the hat was removed from his head and a hand patted his back, urging him off the chair. He moved mechanically as he set began to move toward the green and silver table, his robes changing to mirror the house colors. He couldn't hear the deafening clap of his now housemates, he couldn't hear the headmaster's yell for silence. He couldn't even hear his own heartbeat. He had become deaf to the world as he dropped onto the wooden bench at the table, his eyes lifting to meet another pair. Dark eyes met emerald as the head of Slytherin house gave him a slight nod, raising his glass in welcome.

He would have stayed with his eyes locked with the professor's until a body dropped between them and grey eyes took place of dark ones. 

"Hi," The boy said, stretching his hand out toward Harry. "Name's Draco. Draco Malfoy."

He forced himself to smile. Somewhere in his mind, he could hear his father's voice, telling him the stories of the Malfoy family. They were demons with red eyes and terrifying faces in Harry's mind. But the boy in front of him was no demon. He had bright, blond hair and grey eyes and a surprisingly soft smile which he offered as Harry shook his hand.

"Hadrian." He answered.

"Your last name," The blond said quietly as the sorting continued, "It's not the name of a wizarding family I know."

"It's Greek," Harry explained. "My family came from Greece before I was born."

"Fascinating," Draco said earnestly. "I've never met a Greek wizard." 

"My mother was from here," Harry said quietly.

The sorting finished and Draco turned to Harry. "You can't go making friends with the wrong sort." He puffed himself up slightly. "I can help you there."

Harry resisted the comment which jumped to his lips and instead smiled. "Thank you."

"Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts." A voice boomed, silencing Draco immediately. A man stood where the sorting had just occurred. He folded his arms behind his back. His straw blond hair was held neatly in place atop his head and his amber eyes scanned the crowd of students. "Welcome first years and welcome back to our lovely students. I am your headmaster, Bartemius Crouch Jr, but you can call me Barty. As always, a few rules before we begin our feast. I must remind you that the forest is out of bounds. Stealing is strictly forbidden. Finally, all Zonko's products are not to be used within the walls of the castle. Save it for outside." The headmaster eyed the Gryffindor table. "We don't need a repeat of last March."

Some snickers rose briefly before the headmaster raised his hand, silencing them once more. "Now, children. Enjoy!"

The food seemed to appear with the wave of his hands. Everything Harry could think of appeared before him, including treacle tart which made his mouth water slightly.

Draco preened and began piling food onto his plate. "Eat," He muttered. "You're so thin. As Slytherins, we have an image to keep up."

Harry didn't need any more prompting before he quickly followed Draco's lead, the man with the dark eyes all but forgotten. Conversation filled the hall, making a dull roar echo across metal plates. Harry fell into the conversation easily, forgetting that he was among the wolves. He quickly grabbed one of the tarts as Draco began introducing him. The names collided with stories of his past, putting faces to the children of the monsters in his nightmares. 

"This is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle." Draco waved his hand toward them. "We just call them Crabbe and Goyle." Harry nodded, saying nothing.

Draco turned slightly and jutted his chin towards the professor's table. "You see the man up there, with the long black hair?" Harry nodded and Draco continued. "That's Severus Snape, the potions master." He dropped his voice slightly. "And my godfather."

_"Severus Snape," James bounced six-year-old Harry on his lap. "He and your mother were friends before she ever went to Hogwarts. They fell out as they grew up. She and I married and joined the Order and he joined the Death Eaters."_

"And next to him," Draco pulled Harry from his memories, "That's the Defense professor and our head of house, Professor Riddle."

Harry's eyes once again landed on the professor with the dark, mesmerizing eyes who seemed to notice the moment Harry looked at him. The edges of his lips curled upward before he returned to his previous conversation.

Draco's voice dropped to a whisper. "He's incredibly smart and very powerful. I've heard rumors he rivals the Dark Lord." Draco's eyes widened briefly. "But don't tell anyone I said that and don't repeat it!" He warned quickly, the sentence leaving his lips in one breath.

"I won't," Harry promised.

Relief flooded Draco's face as their plates vanished.

Draco turned to Harry. "We're going to our common room now."

The pair stood from the table and were led from the Great Hall by two Slytherin prefects, neither of whom Harry had heard the name of. All he could hear was Draco babbling in his ear about Hogwarts and his family, especially his father, and how many great things he and Harry, or rather Hadrian, would accomplish together. Harry nodded at the appropriate points and Draco spoke so much that his lack of answers was relatively ignored. They descended one flight of stone stairs and then another. A chill ran over him as they entered the dungeon. Draco quieted as they reached a stone wall. 

"Apophis." One of the prefects barked at the wall. 

As they watched, the stones began to slide aside and suddenly the common room appeared before them. They stepped through the opening and the wall closed behind them. A picture of a serpent sat above the mantel with a roaring fire burning in the fireplace. Windows opened to the water of the massive lake Harry and the others had crossed earlier that night. The common room was bathed in blue and candlelight, making the forest green of the walls dance. Green lamps hung on chains and grey stone lined the walls and floors. Harry looked around in awe before the prefects pointed to the boys' and girls' dormitories. 

Draco practically pulled Harry behind him into the dormitory. The first years were in a room together. The beds were lined with green and silver sheets and identical colored curtains stood ready to be drawn around each one, cutting off one from the world.

Draco pointed to two beds on the other side of the room and ordered Crabbe and Goyle to claim them. He then pointed to the two beds nearest the window and claimed those for himself and Harry.

"They snore," Draco commented idly. "You'll thank me later."

The blur of the night began to catch up with him as he finally rested his head on the pillow, the curtains drawn around him to cut him off from the rest of Slytherin house. He thought of the night and the professor with dark eyes, whom he found himself unable to forget. He soon drifted off to sleep, but not before the scar on his forehead began to burn ever so slightly. 


	3. Harry's Story

"It started in my first year," Harry said as he took another drag. "That's when he first noticed me; when I was sorted into Slytherin." 

James nodded slightly. Harry took another drag of the Lambs Wart and dropped his head, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. James waited patiently for him to continue, though it wasn't an easy story to tell. He looked up once more as the sunlight illuminated the stone path, bringing out the sparkles within the rocks. Harry thought all the times he walked up those stones and into the house. He had learned to walk on this porch, with his uncle behind him and his father in front of him, beckoning him closer. He didn't remember that, but he had been told enough. He did remember the toy broom. He would zoom along inside the little cottage, chasing his poor ginger cat around. Eventually, his father banned all indoor flying and Harry flew over the grass that grew just outside. He loved the feeling of wind in his hair and the adrenaline that coursed through his veins as he went. 

He outgrew the broom, much to his disappointment. His father had promised that he would fly again and he was right. 

"I remember the feast the first night. I remember the way Draco immediately decided I was his friend. I remember walking down into the dungeons and seeing the Slytherin common room. I remember the way my scar burned that first night." Harry dropped his hand from his forehead, unknowingly having reached up to run his fingers over the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He took another drag and flicked off the ash. "Those first few days were exciting and terrifying. I got lost on my way to Transfiguration the first time," He let out a breathy laugh which James echoed. 

"The staircases," James muttered nostalgically. Harry nodded. They were silent for a moment as James reminisced. James raised his eyes to his son. "I know you're hesitating. I know there's so much that happened that I don't know about." Guilt made Harry's throat suddenly feel like it was closing but James continued. "I want you to understand that I won't be angry with what you tell me. But I need to know if I'm going to help you."

Harry nodded and ran a hand through his hair before taking the final drag of the Lambs Wart, extinguishing it, and throwing the butt into the nearby can. 

"So, first year." James turned and pushed himself up onto the railing next to Harry. "There's a lot to cover between then and now."

"First year," Harry echoed.

Inside, the ginger cat changed windows, nonchalantly watching Harry and James as though they might vanish. Harry sucked in a breath and continued his story.

* * *

By the end of his first week, Harry had managed to lose himself twice and earned himself Draco Malfoy attached to his hip. Draco was determined that Harry was a magnet for trouble and was prepared to be the ward against it. Draco dragged Harry from class to class and from class to meal and from meal to the common room. Everywhere Harry turned, Draco was there. It should have bothered him more than it did, but honestly, he was happy to have someone to guide him through the mess that was Hogwarts. 

Draco babbled the whole way down into their first potions class where Harry spent the whole time under the glare of Severus Snape. His father had never told him all the stories from his childhood, but he did know that he and Snape had never gotten along. Part of Harry was terrified. His father had hoped that by sending Harry to Hogwarts, he would be safe in the last place people expected to find him. But that was also assuming that no one the Potters had direct contact with was within the walls of Hogwarts. James expected obscure Death Eaters and maybe someone high within the ranks as the headmaster. He didn't anticipate his childhood rival to be Harry's potion's master. Harry had sent his father a letter telling him about the presence of Severus Snape within the castle's walls. But his father's response was oddly calm, noting that if the man wanted to, he would have exposed Hadrian Krínos as Harry Potter on the first night.

It was Defense that had worried Harry the most that first week. The professor with the dark eyes haunted him until they were face to face. Professor Riddle didn't seem to focus much on Harry, or any student in particular. Their first lesson was about proper wand techniques which Draco seemed to think was a personal slight. Riddle and Harry's only contact that first day was when the professor had turned his hand ever so slightly. Beyond that, the professor with the dark eyes was nothing more than a first-day nightmare.

The second week was far more exciting than the first. Draco was practically vibrating with excitement as they entered their potions class that Monday. The first week had been spent on mostly lecture and Snape glaring at Harry every chance he had. But the second week had them finally practicing potions. The table Harry sat was square, with one person on each side. Draco occupied the space to his right while Crabbe was to his left. Goyle was directly across from him, but he was determined to throw parchment scraps into the cauldrons of nearby tables. Draco and Harry had spent the previous night going over the ingredients for the Cure for Boils and every step until they could say them in their sleep.

"He's not going to go easy on us," Draco had told him. "And there's an image to keep up." He turned his nose upward as though he were posing for a portrait.

Draco rolled his eyes at Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom had taken up similar activities. Snape waved his wand and writing appeared on the board in the front of the classroom. Harry eyed the board slightly, looking for any differences from the potion he and Draco had gone over ad nauseam the night before. He then leaped from the stool and went to the supply closet behind Draco, who had managed to slink his way forward easily and drag Harry along with him. Together the two ventured back to the table, ingredients in hand. 

_Add 6 snake fangs to the mortar. Grind into a fine powder with the pestle._

Snape moved around the room, reminding Harry wildly of a bat when his cloak flared behind him. 

_Add 4 measures of crushed fangs to your cauldron._

Harry scooped the fangs and leveled the measure under Snape's watchful eye. He added them the cauldron one at a time until he reached four. Snape looked down his nose at him but said nothing. 

_Heat mixture for 10 seconds._

Harry wondered how ten seconds could simultaneously feel like an eternity and like the blink of an eye. He removed the cauldron from the flame. The next two steps left everyone mostly milling around their cauldrons as it brewed over the fire once again. Snape evaluated each cauldron and snapped at some students for their ineptitude. He praised Draco for his potion and said nothing again to Harry. When Snape walked away from their table, Draco shuffled closer to Harry and peered into his cauldron before looking back at his own.

"They look the same," He muttered mostly to himself.

Eventually, they added the horned slugs and removed their cauldrons from the fire. All except for a Gryffindor boy who made the mistake of skipping the step. Harry was certain Snape's head would explode when the boy's cauldron caught fire at the addition of the porcupine quills. The boy cowered at Snape's tirade. Harry turned, ready to stand up for the boy when Draco's hand grasped his arm. 

"Don't." Draco's voice was low. "Trust me."

Harry reluctantly turned away and added the last ingredient to his potion. 

"Bottle them and leave them on the desk. Then clean up and leave." Snape snapped at the class.

Harry poured the potion into a vile, labeling it with his name and setting it on the professor's desk as he strode forward. Snape looked at his potion and back up at him as though Harry had placed a venomous spider on his desk. Still, the professor said nothing and Harry hurried away, wondering why. Harry could feel Snape's eyes on him as he and Draco left the room. 

"He'll go easy on us because we're Slytherins," Draco said as they trudged up the stairs toward their next class. "But he won't easily forgive you defying him in class."

"But he was terrifying him," Harry said in disbelief. 

"You think I don't know that?" Draco asked. "I could hear the Longbottom's whimpers across the classroom." Draco huffed. "You have to learn to pick your battles, you can't go rushing into everything without thinking like you're a Gryffindor. All you would have done is made both your lives worse."

"So he just gets to terrify students with no repercussions?" Harry demanded.

Draco pulled him aside as other students passed. "Listen, having Severus Snape against you isn't going to help you. I've told you before there's-"

"An image to keep up." Harry interrupted. "I know."

"No, you don't." Draco snapped before letting out a sigh. "Look I know you didn't grow up in a family with Death Eaters but you must know how things work around here. People like Longbottom," He dropped his voice, "His family supported the Order. If you throw your lot in with them you will have every professor against you and I can't help you from getting lost anymore."

Harry looked at Draco, who suddenly seemed much older than eleven, before he felt himself slump. Draco was right. He was already hiding, he didn't need anything else that made him stand out. Draco nodded, noticing Harry's acceptance of his statement. Together the two of them continued up the stairs to Defense. Harry thought about what Draco said and silently cursed Voldemort. 

Professor Riddle stood in front of his desk with his hands folded behind his back. Draco and Harry settled into their shared table and the murmur of chatter within the class eventually calmed down. The professor nodded approvingly before he spoke.

"Who can remind me what we went over last class?" He asked.

Next to Harry, Draco's hand shot into the air.

"Mr. Malfoy," Riddle acknowledged. 

"You talked about the reason why Defense was renamed from Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"And why is that?" Riddle asked. 

"Because both Dark and Light spells could be used to cause harm," Draco answered.

"Very good. Five points to Slytherin." Draco preened. "All right, everyone stand."

The class obeyed and with a wave of his hand, their desks moved to either side of the room. The students shifted awkwardly as they stood before Riddle ordered them to stand against one wall. A series of dummies appeared lined against the other. Riddle moved to the center of the room.

"Today we will practice the knockback jinx. Normally this is taught in Charms but it has its use in Defense as well."

Riddle demonstrated and one of the dummies fell backward, hitting the floor with a tap before it bounced upright again. 

"Any questions?" No one answered. The professor moved from the center of the class and waved his hand. "Begin."

Harry raised his wand, remembering the technique the professor had shown them. He let out a breath while the others yelled around him, resulting in the dummies sway slightly. He aimed his wand at his dummy.

"Flipendo."

As he watched, the dummy fell backward and hit the floor with a thump before bouncing up again. Excitement ran through Harry as he repeated it, unaware of the sudden silence around him. Again the dummy thumped against the floor before popping back up.

"Very good, Mr. Krínos." The professor said, suddenly appearing behind Harry. "Ten points to Slytherin."

Adrenaline coursed through Harry's veins as he turned to the dummy once again, repeating his previous successes. By the time the class ended, Draco could also knock over his dummy and somehow another student had managed to make his dummy explode. Harry and Draco chatted excitedly as they packed their things, both of them proud of their success. As he readied himself to leave, Harry caught the eyes of the professor who gave him a slight nod, before he was dragged from the classroom.

Draco and Harry were surrounded by Slytherins on all sides. 

"I wish I was Professor Riddle's favorite," One girl, Pansy Parkinson, bemoaned at Harry's side. 

"Favorite?" He asked.

"He clearly likes you. He watched you the whole time," The girl said before sighing dreamily.

Harry shrugged, ignoring whatever Pansy said next. Instead, he thought about the letter he would write to his father telling him of his success in Defense.


	4. Dueling Club

James sighed as he clutched the letter in his hand. Next to him, Sirius peered over his shoulder, reading Harry's quickly scribbled writing. Remus sat across from them in the Potter's small cottage. James dropped the letter on the table in front of him and stood, causing the cat on the armrest to grumble at him. He moved across the room, the wooden floor creaking with every other step, until he reached the window which overlooked his porch. He pulled the curtains back and let the sunlight rush into the room. He sighed again and turned away from the window.

"We have to get him out of there," Sirius said finally.

James leaned against the windowsill. "No. No, I don't think that's necessary." He stared at the floor in front of him as though the patterns in the wood would suddenly give him answers all his questions.

"What?" Sirius demanded. "You can't seriously believe he will be fine in that castle with Snivellus."

James shook his head. "Oh, I have no doubt Severus will make my son's life a living hell, if only for the crime of being my son." He ran a hand through his hair. "But you didn't see him that night. You didn't see what I saw." He looked up at his friends. "I think he was the one who told Dumbledore about Voldemort's fixation on Harry. He was the reason we were able to go into hiding. If it weren't for Pettigrew we would have been safe, because of _him._ " Sirius opened his mouth to answer but James continued, cutting off whatever likely protest he had. "You didn't see the way he clutched Lily's body. You didn't see his tears. He didn't know I was there, he wasn't pretending for me. It was real. He loved her. He won't turn over Harry because of that. I'm sure of it."

"Is that a risk you're willing to take?" Remus asked quietly. 

"I am. Because it's not a risk."

Remus nodded and looked over at Sirius. The man looked back and forth between his friends before letting out a frustrated huff, knowing he wasn't going to win the argument. "Fine. But if this goes to hell, if Harry is caught, I'm blaming him."

James pushed himself upright and walked to the window in the kitchen where Harry's snowy white owl sat. He grabbed a piece of parchment and quickly scribbled his answer, writing in the code he and Harry had established long before he considered sending Harry to Hogwarts. The owl took the letter with a soft coo and opened her massive wings before taking off into the sky and back toward Hogwarts. 

"I still think we should have had Harry become an animagus," Sirius muttered. "That way if he were in trouble he could just change and poof. No more Harry Potter."

"He's eleven." James protested, still watching the receding shape of the snowy owl.

"We were kids too when we became animagi." Sirius countered.

"We were thirteen," James said quietly. "Not actively going through puberty."

He was surprised that Sirius didn't have an answer, but instead stayed silent behind him. James's friends stay through dinner and well into the night. The full moon was the following night and Remus was doing everything in his power to keep himself together until then. The days leading up the full moon were never easy on his body and had only gotten worse as he aged. As a child and even into his teen years, Remus could handle the change relatively well, though he craved chocolate with a passion in the following days. But he wasn't a child anymore. They had reached their 30s, by some miracle, and the change wore on Remus every month.

After dinner they found themselves playing cards to entertain themselves. James had taught Harry exploding snap when he was younger, but the game didn't wasn't as much fun without him. Instead, they found themselves playing round after round of rummy until Remus excused himself to sleep. Sirius had followed not long after him, the two of them occupying the guest bedroom upstairs next to Harry's room. James eventually followed suit, retiring to his room. He ran his hand over the portrait of Lily that sat on his nightstand before he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Harry excelled at Defense. While he wasn't particularly bad in any class, Defense was his forte. Within the first month of Harry's schooling at Hogwarts, he surpassed all his peers in Defense, Draco included. By the time the second month ended, he had begun to show the same proficiency in his other classes. Draco and Harry were together at all times, first in classes and between, and then even the rare moments Harry found by himself had begun to be replaced with time spent with the Malfoy boy. More and more he began to embrace his life within the Slytherin house, but he never fully embraced it. He was surprised at how open the house was, they seemed tolerant to most things, except anything less than a half-blood. He never embraced the blood purity and fought against it within the ranks of his own friend group. 

Crabbe and Goyle were mostly lumped into the group due to their parents' association with Lucius Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson also found her way into the group, as well as Daphne Greengrass. Draco had insisted Harry that he give Blaise Zabini a chance and Harry reluctantly agreed. Other Slytherin first years, like Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott, were more on the outskirts of the group. During their first flying lesson, both Harry and Draco earned their way onto the Slytherin team after unexpectedly being caught flying without the instructor's approval. Draco had impressed the current captain, Marcus Flint, when he flipped upside down on his broom to taunt Harry and Harry had impressed him with his unexpected catch of Neville Longbottom's remembrall. He secretly slipped it back to the boy when Draco wasn't looking.

Draco's father, upon hearing of Draco's place on the Slytherin team, had commissioned new brooms for the whole team, Harry included. Draco paraded around the castle afterward, taunting the other house's teammates with his superior broom. Harry, on the other hand, was just grateful to have a broom to fly on. 

As Halloween rolled around, Draco noticed Harry's sudden distracted demeanor. For days the Malfoy heir prodded and pushed until Harry relented.

"My mother," He told Draco quietly. "She died on Halloween."

Draco's face fell at Harry's admission. "I'm sorry." He said earnestly.

Not for the first time, Harry marveled at how human Draco really was. Around the other Slytherins, Draco pretended he was above it all and with other houses, he looked down on them as if they were ants he was about to crush under his boots. But Draco seemed to have a soft spot for the boy with emerald eyes. Harry never asked him about it, but he knew some part of Draco was relieved not to have to pretend around him.

"We'll make this a good Halloween," Draco announced.

Harry smiled and agreed. But still, on Halloween morning, he sent a letter to his father, making certain the man knew he wasn't alone.

By the end of his third month, Harry had earned Slytherin quite a few points from impressed professors and Slytherin had won their first Quidditch match of the year. Draco, as the team's newest chaser, had scored the most points. Harry, the team's seeker, had snatched the snitch right out of the nearly closed fist of the Gryffindor seeker, ending the game. 

The day after the first Quidditch match, Harry sat in Defense, still buzzing with adrenaline. 

"Hadrian," Professor Riddle said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Will you and Mr. Malfoy stay a moment? I would like to speak with you both."

Harry watched as Crabbe and Goyle lumbered from the class. Pansy walked by him, leaning and whispering _favorite_ before winking at him and leaving the room. 

"Come closer, the both of you," Riddle said. The pair obeyed, stepping up to the man's desk. Riddle's dark eyes scanned them before he folded his hands on his desk. "Every year, I look for those who I feel have the greatest potential. These select students are offered a position in my little dueling club. I believe you both fit my qualifications."

Draco grasped Harry's arm with a near vice-like grip, silencing what Draco likely thought would be a denial from him. "We would be honored." He said.

"I appreciate your excitement, Mr. Malfoy, but I believe Hadrian can speak for himself." Riddle's dark eyes settled on Harry.

"I would love to," Harry said breathlessly. 

In truth, he relished the chance to practice more.

"Very good. Our first meeting is tonight in the Dueling Room." Riddle dismissed them with a wave.

"Do you understand what this means?" Draco asked as they left the room. "We're in the most elite club in the castle." Draco babbled about the implications and Harry let him. The pair moved out of the castle and onto the lawn in front of Hogwarts where their friends waited. "My father will hear about this!" Draco said proudly.

That night, Harry and Draco followed two older Slytherin students who were also members of Riddle's dueling club. Unsurprisingly, the room was located in the dungeons of Hogwarts castle. Harry marveled at the grand stage in the center of the room and the marble pillars which spanned the length of the stone walls. On the far side of the room was a trophy with name after name on it under the words, _The Champion's Cup_. The names were colored for the individual houses; Slytherin winners in green, Hufflepuff in yellow, Ravenclaw in blue, and Gryffindor in red. He was surprised at the number of Gryffindor names on the cup and the number within the room itself. Part of him thought for sure the head of Slytherin house would have kept his club Slytherin exclusive. But nearly half the members were from Gryffindor. There were a few Ravenclaws, a lone Hufflepuff, and the rest were Slytherins. 

Riddle strode into the room and it took Harry everything he had not to gape at the man. Normally the professor dressed in long black robes. His hair was always immaculate atop his head. But now, Riddle wore only a pair of black slacks and a white shirt and his hair was looser than normal, a lone curl sitting on his forehead. His dark eyes were framed by his cheekbones, which suddenly seemed more pronounced. Riddle clapped his hands and the room silenced. 

"Welcome to our first dueling club of the year," He said as he gracefully stepped on the stage. Harry and the others moved closer. "And welcome to our newest members, Draco Malfoy and Hadrian Krínos." Claps echoed around the room. Draco stood straighter as if he were waiting for the applause the whole time.

"First, let's go over the rules and decorum of dueling, shall we." Riddle waved his hand and another appeared in the doorway of the room. 

Severus Snape practically glid into the room and moved onto the stage with Riddle. "As always, our potion's master has kindly agreed to help with this demonstration." Riddle moved to the opposite end of the platform. His eyes slid to Harry. "Don't worry. You'll still have your beloved potion's master when I'm through with him."

Snape carefully dropped his robe to the side. Harry idly thought that he looked less bat-like without the billowing robe. 

"First we bow to each other. You mustn't forget your manners." Riddle announced.

He and Snape moved to the center of the stage before moving their wands in front of their faces. The wands whipped through the air and the two bowed before they lowered them and turned on their heels, returning to their respective ends. 

"Next you move into your stance. From there, three seconds will pass and the duel begins." Riddle said.

Snape moved his right foot behind him, keeping his feet shoulder-width apart. His left arm he held out in front of him and his wand was aloft over his head. Riddle's stance was more casual. He kept his body facing forward, and his wand held loosely in his hand. Harry silently counted to three and suddenly Snape moved.

"Expelliarmus." 

The red spell shot from Snape's wand and collided with a white shield in front of Riddle's body. Riddle retaliated using the knockback jinx, sending Snape backward. Harry tried not to laugh as the others clapped. Riddle bowed slightly as the other professor stood and straightened himself. Snape gave a slight nod to Riddle before turning and leaving the room. Riddle clapped his hands together.

"Now, who shall we see first?"

Harry felt the eyes of some of the other students' land on him while the rest landed on Draco.

"Newbies!" Someone called.

"Newbies! Newbies! Newbies!" The chanting grew until Riddle raised a hand to silence it.

"Very well, our first match will be Draco Malfoy against Hadrian Krínos!"


	5. The Lessons

Harry stepped onto the stage with Riddle just over his shoulder. He pulled his wand from his robes as Draco appeared on the other side. The two walked toward each other until they met in the middle. Harry could hear every step and creak on the stage and as Draco neared, he could hear the other's breath. The two stopped inches from each other and raised their wands as Riddle and Snape had just done. Both bowed, lowly. Harry couldn't help the slight smile that curved at the corner of his lips as they straightened themselves.

"Scared, Hadrian?" Draco whispered, winking as he finished his sentence.

"You wish," Harry answered before they turned.

Every step back to his end of the platform vibrated into his very soul. It was as though the whole world evaporated around him. He was acutely aware of Draco at the other end and Riddle, who stood in front of him with his hands folded, his dark eyes focused completely on Harry. He reached his end of the platform and spun around, feeling his robes billow as he did. He could see Draco's robes settling. He could see the veins thrumming in the other boy's neck. His heart pounded in his chest and the fire of excitement ran through his veins. He had never practiced on anything more than a dummy and now he was being asked to duel another student.

"Wands at the ready," Riddle called.

Harry let out a breath as he drew one leg behind the other and held his wand in front of him. Draco, as Harry expected, was much more dramatic in his stance. He mirrored Harry in his side face stance, but his forward most hand was held straight, as though he were looking down his arm to aim at Harry. His wand was held high above his head.

"On the count of three, begin."

Time slowed.

"One," Riddle's voice echoed into his bones.

"Two," His heart seemed to pound so hard it became silent.

"Three!" He could see Draco's eyes widen. He knew the other was about to strike.

His reaction was automatic. His arm straightened and he heard himself mutter the spell. "Flipendo." 

It was almost as if he had run up to the other and pushed him over. He could feel every moment of the spell as it flew through the air. He felt a pressure deep within his core as though his magic were expanding. Draco was launched backward, his feet lifting off the ground and his body folding in half as he fell backward. He hit the ground with a thud and a grunt. Harry came back to himself, as though he had been watching the whole thing rather than experiencing it. He dropped his wand and ran across the stage, stopping at Draco's side. The other boy was huffing in air after Harry had knocked it out of him.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, suddenly panicked.

"All right?" Draco spluttered as he accepted Harry's extended hand. "I'm better than all right. Would be better if I could breathe though." Draco looked him over. "Remind me not to make you angry."

He hauled the other upward with a smile. It was then that he suddenly became acutely aware of the clapping around him. He turned to see Riddle striding forward in his usual graceful glide, his dark eyes forever focused on Harry.

"Very good, Hadrian." Riddle practically purred. "We have our first winner of the night, and a first-year" Riddle announced. "I look forward to seeing how you improve as you progress through your schooling." The professor said, dropping his voice so only Harry could hear him.

"Thank you, Professor."

Riddle nodded and Harry left the stage behind his friend. He was buzzing with excitement and adrenaline. He felt like a live wire, shaking with pure electricity. Other students stepped onto the stage, their displays were far more impressive than Harry's. Some duels lasted for ten minutes or more, as equally matched students competed against one another. He watched each spell, memorizing the hand movements and fluidity of the older students' motions. The older the student, the more they were adept at dueling. Harry watched as two seventh years took their turn, both of whom were incredibly skilled. Spells that he didn't recognize flew across the stage with devastating accuracy and crashed into brilliant shields. 

At some point, Riddle had Harry and Draco move off to the side with one of the older students to practice additional spells. The first spell, and one Harry was anxious to learn, was the shield charm. The older student, Oliver Wood, a Gryffindor, stood across from Harry and Draco. He used a stinging jinx which annoyed Harry greatly, but he found the spell a great motivator to make his shield. Eventually, he and Draco could both produce the brilliant white shields they had seen throughout the night. Wood then moved on to teaching them the disarming spell. Because they could practice it on each other without hurting one another, the older student paced back and forth between Draco and Harry, evaluating and critiquing their technique until they could both disarm the other. 

It didn't take much for Riddle to draw everyone's attention back to him. Harry disarmed Draco for the third time when the professor began to move, drawing all eyes back to him.

"You've done very well tonight," He said with a smile. "Now off to bed the lot of you. Or Barty will have us all in detention."

Some of the students laughed and they began to grab their belongings. Riddle dropped off the stage and grasped Harry's shoulder, keeping him in place as the others filtered from the room. He nodded at Draco who had waited to see where Harry vanished too. The other looked back and forth between him and the professor before leaving the room. The door shut with a soft click behind the last student and Riddle let go of Harry's arm. 

"You seem to have a knack for Defense," Riddle said as he waved his wand, making the stage fold on itself and move to the side of the room.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said. His stomach twisted into knots at being alone with the professor. Harry was rarely alone with anyone in these first few months at Hogwarts except for Draco. The professor wasn't Draco, however, and was likely a Death Eater if not a high ranking one. For the first time since he started, Harry worried he might be caught.

"I believe you could potentially take on more than the current curriculum," Riddle turned to him. "I never offer this to students, but I think you would benefit from private lessons. That is if you would like."

Harry felt himself nodding vigorously. "I would, Professor."

Riddle smiled. "Very good. Now off to bed." He waved his hand. "I will inform you when our first lesson is."

Harry nodded and left the room, feeling like he was floating on a cloud.

* * *

"The first few months were uneventful. Besides winning my first game in Quidditch, I didn't think anything was interesting enough to write home about. I didn't really notice his interest in me, other than that I excelled at Defense. After those first few months, he invited me to the dueling club saying I had 'great potential.' After that first dueling club, he offered to give me private lessons." Harry watched a rabbit dash across the path leading up to the cottage and dive rather dramatically into a bush. "I was excited of course. I felt special like someone noticed me for something I did and I wasn't the hunted baby anymore."

"We started out small. We went over things like the disarming spell, the shield charm, and a few other charms. All very simple and innocent stuff. By the end of my first year, Draco and I both were ahead in our studies. He didn't just teach me Defense, he taught me charms, transfiguration, potions, healing magic." Harry let out a sigh. "Everything he taught me I relayed to Draco. But it was all innocent."

James watched him, the way he tensed as he continued his story, the way he refused to look at his father. 

"Quidditch was amazing. We won every game that year. There was one game where Draco scored so many points, it wouldn't have mattered that I caught the snitch. There was no way for the other team to win. We even won the house cup." He smiled softly, remembering the way Slytherin house practically launched themselves and each other into the enchanted ceiling upon hearing of their victory. "By my second year, we were working on O.W.L. level material. He taught me the Patronus charm. I didn't think twice when he said he couldn't produce one. I just thought he'd had an unhappy life." Harry shrugged. "By my third year, we were spending hours with him quizzing me about various creatures and potions ingredients. I dreamt about them. He also started having me do more physical activity. Weird obstacle courses. I got stronger, faster." He sighed. "He would stay focused on me during class, making either me or Draco answer all his questions."

The sun had moved overhead and lit up Harry's dark skin. He flexed and stretched, shifting from the position he had been occupying. James jerked his head and Harry nodded. Together the two moved back inside the cottage. Harry dropped into an armchair and propped to his feet up. His lap was immediately occupied by the cat, who dug her claws into his legs before flopping on her side. James puttered around in the kitchen for a few minutes and when he came out, he held two plates in his hands. He handed one to Harry and sat down on the couch with his feet propped up, facing his son.

The two ate in silence and now and then he wrestled the food away from the cat. When he finished, he sent his dish into the kitchen, watching as it gently landed in the sink. The brush next to the sink went to work automatically, lifting itself and scrubbing the plate. Harry stroked the soft ginger fur of his cat as James stood and stretched, walking his plate into the kitchen and grabbing something for himself to drink. He brought Harry a glass and he thanked him. They sat in silence for a moment longer before James looked at him expectantly.

"So," James began. "He took you apart from other students and began teaching you separately. You advanced quickly through your studies." He folded his hands. "I'm not surprised how easy magic was for you to comprehend. You are your mother's son. I'm also not surprised at your Quidditch abilities. You are also my son. I'm not hearing anything that I would characterize as worrisome at this point. I see a teacher taking an interest in his student." James ended the sentence in such a way that Harry knew he was asking a silent question.

Harry sighed and nodded. "That's because it was mostly innocent. A teacher taking interest in who he deemed a gifted student." He paused and dropped his head. "That was until my fifth year."


	6. The Snake and the Locket

Harry trotted up the stairs from the dungeon. The welcome feast had finished not that long ago and he returned to his bed in Slytherin house to find a note carefully written and left for him. He walked down the empty corridor, his footsteps echoing off the walls. Riddle had asked him to come after the feast and he was all too excited to heed his beckoning. He knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer. He pushed the door open and stepped inside the dark room. The door to Riddle's office was slightly ajar, with the flickering of a fire evident. He stepped further into the room and let the door shut behind him. He looked around the classroom as he walked forward. As he stepped past the second row of desks, he heard the distinct hissing of a snake. He froze and looked around the room, his eyes finally settling on the massive snake nearly right next to him. The snake watched him and he watched the snake. After a moment, the snake slithered up the nearest chair and onto the desk. It stretched and moved upward until the two of them were eye to eye.

" _You are the one master has been training,_ " The snake said.

Harry cocked his head. " _Yes. Your master is Riddle?_ "

The snake moved closer, seeming to evaluate him. Above him, the door to Riddle's office opened, lighting the room. Riddle stepped out and looked down to find Harry and his beloved snake staring at each other. Riddle clicked his tongue, making them both look at him.

"I see you've met Nagini," He said as he moved down the stairs. Riddle stopped in front of Harry as he looked back at the massive snake. "I think she likes you."

"She's a very odd snake," Harry commented as he watched her slither up Riddle's body, resting her head on his shoulder.

Riddle studied him for a moment. "You spoke to her." 

Harry nodded. "She spoke first." 

Riddle's eyebrows knitted together. "Hadrian," He said carefully. "Do you know what Parseltongue is?" Harry shook his head. "It's the language of the snakes. Incredibly rare and thought to be lost." Riddle turned and walked back toward the stairs, beckoning Harry to follow. He did and after a moment they were in the man's office. The door shut behind them with a soft click, and Riddle deposited Nagini next to the fire. "Do you know that you can speak it?"

"I-" Harry paused. "I spoke a different language?" He asked in disbelief. "But that doesn't make any sense. How can I speak a different language without knowing I can?"

Riddle sat in a chair next to the fire and beckoned Harry to take the other. Harry sat, feeling the heat of the fire sink into his bones. 

"Hadrian," Riddle said after a moment, "You must not tell anyone else of this ability." Harry's face must have shown his unasked question because Riddle continued. "As I said it's an incredibly rare gift, but one that most people are afraid of. You can only share it with those you trust." Riddle cocked his head. "Do you trust me, Hadrian?"

Harry thought for a moment. He had been inherently distrustful for the majority of his life. He lived among Death Eaters and their children. Those who weren't were often shunned and tormented, with Harry being one of the few exceptions. However, this immunity was partially because no one knew who he really was. But did he trust any of them? He supposed he trusted Draco, despite his father being the Minister of Magic and one of Voldemort's most faithful followers. Surprisingly, he found himself thinking that he did trust Riddle. 

"I do," He answered quietly. 

Riddle smiled. "Good. I won't tell anyone your secret." Riddle turned and looked into the fire. " _As long as you don't tell them mine._ "

Harry probably earned himself whiplash from how fast his head snapped in Riddle's direction. The Defense professor smiled and looked at him once again.

"Are you really all that surprised, Hadrian?" Riddle asked. A cup of tea floated toward him and he took it willingly. "I've told you for years that you and I are alike."

Harry nodded. "I guess I'm not. I just," He paused. "I thought I was alone."

"Oh, you were never alone, Hadrian." 

The pair sat in silence as Harry sipped his tea. The fire crackled and now and then Nagini would shift, stretching and curling as she enjoyed the heat. 

"Professor," Harry began, "Why did you ask for me to come tonight?" 

Riddle rubbed his chin. "Do you remember the first Defense classes you had?" 

"Yes," Harry answered. 

"What did I tell you, why is it called Defense?"

"Because both dark and light magic can be used to cause harm," Harry answered automatically.

Riddle let out a sigh. "Yes." Harry watched as the thoughts flew behind the man's eyes before he focused on him more carefully. "As you have stated, you trust me. And I would not suggest this if I did not think you could handle it." Riddle leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "The best way to know how to defend yourself is to study all forms of magic. The curriculum calls for understanding aspects of dark magic, but you will never truly learn it without practice. I believe you would benefit immensely from learning."

Harry felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. "Me? Learn dark magic?" He spluttered. "But-"

"I won't let anything bad happen to you, Hadrian. I will guide you the whole time and help you." Harry swallowed thickly. "Take some time to think about it, if you need. I won't pressure you. But I do think that with how quickly you have advanced through your studies, you could handle dark magic without the side effects."

"Side effects?" Harry asked.

Riddle hummed. "Yes. Some people do not do well with dark magic. It can drive some insane." Harry thought of his father's stories of Bellatrix Lestrange. "And it is very easy to become addicted to."

"Have you practiced it?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Riddle answered.

"Have you become addicted to it?"

"No."

Harry nodded. Riddle had never once acted like the people his father had described to him in the past. He knew of how wild Bellatrix Lestrange could become, how easily she lost herself in a hunt and how she prided herself on every kill. Even Barty gave Harry chills when they were near, and James had told him of Barty's own past adventures. But Riddle had never seemed like them. He was always calm and collected. His mind was always sharp and focused, as though he were anticipating every scenario at once. He was charismatic and easily entranced his students during his lectures. After all these years, Harry was less affected by his ability to entrance, but even he wasn't immune. If Riddle thought he could handle dark magic, then maybe he could.

"I'll do it," He said finally.

Riddle's dark eyes reflected the fire as he looked at him. "Very good." The man stood and walked over to the massive bookshelves that lined the office. He searched for a moment before finding the book he was looking for. He plucked it from the shelf and walked back over, offering it to Harry. He took it. The book seemed to vibrate with dark energy in his hands. "I want you to read that before we begin our studies. I also would like you to read about dark magic in your Defense book."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

"I've told you many times over the last few years, Hadrian, you can call me Tom."

Harry smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Thank you, Tom."

Riddle nodded. "Now off you go. I won't be able to prevent you from earning detention with Severus if you're caught after hours."

Harry laughed slightly but obeyed, glancing over his shoulder at Riddle as he left the room. As he walked down the corridor, he more carefully examined the book in his hands.

_Secrets of the Darkest Art._

* * *

Harry walked up behind a large group. Draco stood flanked on either side by Crabbe and Goyle. Across from him was a group composed of students from the other houses. Draco sneered something which Harry couldn't hear. He shook his head. Draco had a habit of stepping on people's toes. They were never happy, even with the Death Eater's crowned prince, and it often resulted in Draco having to defend himself. Or rather, Harry having to defend him. Harry stepped up to the group, squeezing in between the broad shoulders of Draco's lackeys, and behind Draco himself. He draped one arm over Draco's shoulder and brought his other under Draco's other arm and onto his shoulder. He dropped his head on his hand, making Draco sway slightly.

The others across from them silenced as Harry evaluated his friend. "Getting into trouble again, are we?"

Draco smirked. "Me? I'm never the trouble."

Harry glanced at the others across from him. He winked slightly before pulling Draco away, dragging him across the corridor. The two changed positions with Harry's arm stretched across the other's shoulders.

"They're terrified of you," Draco muttered bitterly. "I want that."

Harry laughed. "They're not terrified of me." He pulled the other closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. 

Draco mimicked disgust as he wiped at his face. Harry laughed and they walked outside. Crabbe and Goyle grumbled something behind them, but neither could be bothered to care. 

"So, Captain," Draco said after a minute as they dropped onto the grass. "When are tryouts?" 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Next week." He rolled his head to look at Draco. "Worried you won't make the team?"

Draco sneered. "I'd only be worried if I were them." He jerked a thumb at Crabbe and Goyle.

"They're trying out too you know," Harry said quietly. "Beaters."

Draco scoffed. "They'll get that easily. They love to hit things."

"Who are we hitting?" Crabbe asked.

Draco cocked his head and laughed. "See."

"I wasn't worried."

Harry rolled his head back, ready to take in some of the sun when a figure caught his attention. He looked over his shoulder to see Riddle standing in the doorway before he jerked his head for Harry to follow. He jumped to his feet and gave a half-hearted goodbye to Draco. He practically ran up the hill and the stone steps until he caught up with Riddle inside the castle. Riddle was quiet until they reached the Defense classroom. The door shut on its own and Riddle dropped onto his desk. The action by anyone else would have been unceremonious but with Riddle, it looked graceful. 

"How far are you with your reading?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at Riddle's tone. It was colder than normal, more formal. 

"What no 'hi Hadrian?'" He asked. Riddle's dark eyes shot to his. He wasn't amused. Harry sighed. "I finished it. In one night." Riddle raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "None of it was surprising except for one chapter."

"Horcruxes," Riddle said quietly.

"Yes."

Riddle looked him over before turning to look out the window.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked, stepping closer.

"I can't help but notice how close you are with Draco Malfoy."

Harry started. "Draco?" He felt himself laugh. "Draco's my friend. My first friend. But if you're thinking there's something else there-" Harry trailed off. Why was he explaining himself to Tom?

Riddle stood suddenly and waved his hand for Harry to follow. He did eagerly and he found himself once again in Riddle's office.

"I have a gift for you." Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh don't act so surprised, Hadrian. We have known each other for years. And I know you are apprehensive about dark magic." He pulled a locket into view. "This will help." He held the locket out and Harry took it.

He evaluated the golden locket with the serpentine S, inlaid with golden stones. The locket dropped into his hand and he stared at it for a moment. He could swear it twitched just slightly as he curled his fingers around it. Riddle watched him intently as Harry looked back up at him. Riddle took the locket from his hands and clasped it around his neck. The locket was light as it dropped against his chest.

"It will help you channel dark magic without being affected by it." Riddle stepped away from him but there was something else in his voice that made Harry watch him. "Much dark magic has been commandeered by light magic. It's not seen as dark without the intent behind it." Riddle moved around him, circling him. "You have already used a dark jinx." Harry opened his mouth to ask but Riddle dropped his mouth next to Harry's ear. "Flipendo."

"Most dark magic," Riddle continued without letting Harry say a word. "Is considered dark because it has the ability to do harm. But intent is everything. Using dark magic to protect someone is no different than using light magic." Harry listened intently as Riddle spoke. "Hexes are slightly darker than jinxes. And then, of course, there are curses. The Unforgivables for instance. But there are others, Fiendfyre and taboos. The jinxes and hexes you already learned whether or not you knew it. Those are less interesting. But the curses-"

Riddle cut himself off and evaluated Harry. 

"Have you learned occlumency?" Harry shook his head. "Mind magic is important. You need to know how to guard your mind before anything else. Some magic will eat you alive, starting with your mind." Harry swallowed thickly. "We will begin with occlumency at your next lesson. Between now and then I want you to practice emptying your mind. Letting it become carefully blank." Harry nodded. "Any questions?"

"No." Harry watched Riddle intently before dropping his head to look at the locket. "Thank you." Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Tom." The other's lips curled upward just slightly. 

He gestured to the door. "Your friends will be worried. You should rejoin them."

Harry nodded slightly, lost in thought and turned to go before turning back to look at the man. "Tom," He began quietly. Riddle looked at him. "Why did you ask about Draco?" 

Riddle smirked. "No reason."

Harry opened his mouth to say more but decided against it. Instead, he nodded his goodbye and left the room. As he walked down the stairs, he couldn't help but think the emotion he'd heard in Riddle's voice was jealousy.


	7. Mine

"That weekend we started occlumency." Harry shifted slightly in his chair. "Everything was fine at first. He only dove into surface-level memories. But it was after that first lesson that I really understood what was at stake. I knew that at any moment he could dive deeper and figure out who I was." Harry shook his head. "I tried to practice on my own. Every morning and night I focused on emptying my mind. He could tell that I was becoming more hesitant with him. I avoided his eyes during classes, afraid that the moment we made eye contact the truth would bubble to the surface and he would know. I still didn't know who he was. To me, he was the Defense professor and probably a high ranking Death Eater. Draco once told me that he might even rival Voldemort but those thoughts left my mind once he started giving me lessons in first year."

"The more I withdrew from him, the more he seemed to want to know. He became more aggressive during the occlumency lessons, trying to find more and more. He pushed me over and over until he thought I would give up. I never did. But his lessons became more painful and for a time I debated never going back." Harry sighed. "But I knew that if I didn't go back, it would raise more suspicions. So, I went back one more time." Harry dropped his head into his hands. "And he figured it out."

James let out a breath that neither of them seemed to realize he was holding. He was silent for a moment and Harry could nearly hear the thoughts running through his mind.

"All right." He said, "So, he decided to teach you dark magic but before he could, he had to teach you occlumency to keep your mind intact." James stood. "He dove into your mind over and over and when he figured out you were hesitant he wanted to know. And then he figured out who you were." Harry nodded. "What happened next?"

Harry lifted his head. "He said he would keep my secret. He warned me to never share it, just like the parseltongue. He said he would hide me, even from Voldemort." Harry let out a sardonic laugh. "I should have known. Right then I should have figured it out. But I was so wrapped up in the fact that he said he would keep me safe, I never realized who he was keeping me safe from." He let out a sigh. "That was the end of fifth year. After that, during sixth year, I began to notice his jealousy more. He would get angry any time he saw me having physical contact with Draco. I started to push. Payback for him attempting to tear apart my mind. During Quidditch matches, during classes, even out and about I would find a way to be next to Draco. It drove him crazy. For a while. Eventually, he seemed to figure out what I was doing. So, I changed tactics."

James seemed to notice his hesitation. "Go on."

* * *

Harry dropped onto the bench next to Blaise, draping one leg over the other's and setting his head on the other's shoulder. He barely reacted and instead kept his verbal sparring with Draco going. Draco eyed him for a moment but Harry merely winked and looked over his shoulder. Riddle's head lazily drifted toward them, but his eyes were blazing. Harry felt triumph deep within his veins. Blaise lazily dropped a hand onto his thigh, squeezing it. Harry could see Riddle bristle at the movement, but otherwise, nothing happened. Harry let out a sigh. 

He had approached Blaise a few days prior, hoping to enlist him in his mission to push Riddle further. Blaise, as he had grown older, had come to resent the attention that was paid to the professor over him. His vanity played to Harry's advantage. Blaise knew little about the relationship between Harry and his professor, but he did know that the man had always paid special attention to Harry. And now Harry was asking for his help to enrage the professor. Blaise jumped at the chance. 

During their lessons, Riddle had changed. Maybe it was the lure of dark magic, at least Harry hoped. He would often find the professor right behind him, their bodies nearly touching. Riddle would take every chance he had to move Harry's wrist, his touches lingering just a little longer than normal. But Harry could hardly bring himself to care. Those touches, no matter how small, sent a fire running through his veins. And, though he would never admit it, he wanted more. He had told himself, over and over, that he was immune to the professor's charms. Most weren't but Harry tried to reason with himself that he had more exposure to Riddle than anyone. But the older he became, the more Riddle's charm drew him in. Much like most of the girls, and several of the boys, in the class, he would find himself enraptured by anything the professor had to say. Riddle's eyes would linger on his and he found himself more and more trying to capture them. 

He often chalked it up to being a teenager. Riddle was a good looking professor, nearly everyone admitted it. And, from a rather awkward talk during his second year given by the school's mediwitch, he knew that things such as this would happen the older he became. Sometimes, he found himself wondering what exactly he was feeling. He knew he experienced something similar with the Ravenclaw seeker, a girl named Cho Chang. He also had felt something similar with Hufflepuff's seeker, Cedric Diggory. Draco was definitely attractive to him and so was Blaise. Hence, his enlistment of Blaise in his plan.

Harry squeezed the other's shoulder, a silent cue for Blaise to focus on him more. Blaise let himself trail off in his argument with Draco and turned to Harry. Their eyes met and the other leaned forward more. Their lips brushed lightly and Harry's eyes flew to Riddle's. Riddle's dark eyes narrowed. He stood and left the corridor quickly. Harry smirked against Blaise's lips. The other leaned back, a silent question on his face. Harry nodded and Blaise focused back on Draco who shook his head with an eye roll.

"If you two are going to do that, why don't you do it elsewhere?" Draco demanded.

"Don't forget, little dragon, my bed is next to yours," Harry answered with a smirk.

Draco paled slightly but composed himself just as quickly. "Two can play at that game, Hadrian."

"Oh, can they now?" Harry leaned around Blaise slightly, pressing his body against the other's. 

"They can," Draco leaned closer. 

"Hadrian!" A voice cut through their moment and Harry huffed in exasperation. He leaned back to see a first-year Slytherin running up to him. "I'm sorry." The boy's face flushed bright red as Harry leaned back from Draco, his leg still draped over Blaise.

"No need to be sorry," He grinned. "What is it?"

The first year spluttered. "Oh, um. Pr-professor Riddle asked me to tell you to meet him in his office for your lesson in an hour."

Harry nodded and smiled at the boy once again. "Thank you."

The boy flushed again and ran away, suddenly finding himself enveloped in his group of friends. Draco leaned back and propped himself on his hands.

"Of course, your _lesson._ " 

Harry rolled his eyes.

"If you're shagging the professor, you should just tell us."

Harry feigned bewilderment. "I would never!"

Draco snorted. "You would. But I take your reaction as your..." His friend looked him up and down. " _Innocence_ is still intact."

Harry waggled his eyebrows and stood, moving next to Draco and dropping his mouth next to his friend's ear. "Even if it wasn't, what makes you think I'd tell you?"

He left them then, strolling through the castle to first grab his things from his dorm, and then to venture upward to the Defense classroom to meet Riddle. He knew there would be some form of pushback from Riddle, but honestly, he didn't care. He had forced a reaction from him and that was what he wanted. He pressed against the door to the Defense classroom, nodding at Nagini as he went. The snake hissed something about hunting mice and the door shut softly behind her. Harry didn't wait for Riddle to call him or find him, he instead strolled up the stair towards the man's office. He pushed the door open only to suddenly be accosted by Riddle. The man's eyes were blazing with something that was gone just as quickly as it came. His hand wrapped around Harry's throat and he was forced back against the door. He and the other were face to face. Harry could feel Riddle's hot breath against his cheek and he could swear he heard the other's pounding heart. 

He didn't know what kept him from panicking, but somehow he knew the man wouldn't hurt him. The locket seemed to twitch against his chest as they stood. Time slowed and all Harry could see, hear, or feel was Riddle inches from him. 

"You're _mine_. Do you understand?" Riddle's voice was barely louder than a whisper, but Harry heard it as if he were shouting. He nodded slightly but Riddle continued as if he hadn't. "After all these years, I thought you would have learned that." Riddle neared. "Mine."

Harry swallowed thickly, his voice trapped in his throat. 

Riddle's lips came crashing down on him then and suddenly he was able to move again. He pushed himself against Riddle as the other pulled him in.

_Shagging the professor..._

Draco's voice suddenly flooded into his mind, forcing Harry back to himself. He pushed away from Riddle and left without a word, feeling the professor's eyes on his back as he hurried from the Defense classroom. 

His feet carried him through the castle until he suddenly found Blaise striding through the halls. He barely thought as he grabbed the other and dragged him through the castle into the room Riddle had shown him some years ago during their lessons. The room opened itself to Harry and inside there was nothing but a bed and fire. Blaise didn't question him; didn't say a word as Harry's lips found his. Their bodies ground together and Blaise pushed him back against the bed, discarding clothes as they went.

Harry ground upward into the other, who seemed just as frustrated as he was. He lost himself in that moment, focusing on the sensations and sounds only. He forgot the world outside, he forgot the force of Riddle's kiss, he forgot the way his body lit on fire even being near the man. Instead, he buried it all as Blaise ground against him. He felt the other's nails trail down his spine, he felt his teeth sink into his shoulder, he felt the demand of the other, pushing into him over and over again. Blaise gripped the back of his neck, holding him in place as they took what they needed from each other. 

After it was over, Blaise rolled off him in a haze, but Harry's mind lit up once again. He collected his clothing and gave a quiet 'thanks' as the other began to dose off on the bed. Harry pulled on his jacket and left the room, feeling more confused than ever.


	8. The Darkness

The pair had been silent for a moment. Harry didn't explain in depth what had happened, but he knew James could surmise it, especially from what he withheld. Harry looked everywhere but in his father's eyes. Across the room, the cat bathed in the last ray of sunlight for the day, soaking it up through her ginger fur. A fire crackled in the fireplace. He then stood abruptly, suddenly feeling unlike himself. He knew what was happening, he was well aware of this feeling. So, he stepped out through the door again, grabbing the same small, white pack, and again lighting Lambs Wart before taking a drag. The feeling that so abruptly welled up inside him, that threatened to overtake him at a moment's notice, abided just a bit. Another drag and the feeling began to decrease. Again and again, until the Lambs Wart was gone, but it wasn't enough. The feeling was still there, threatening to surge once more and he would lose himself in it. So, he lit another.

"Does it help?" James asked as he stepped out onto the porch behind Harry, leaning against the wooden doorframe.

"A little," Harry said, his voice sounding much more tired than he would have liked. "It takes a moment. It's like putting a blanket on a fire to suffocate it." He looked at the Lambs Wart between his fingers. "The fire is still there and there's a chance it might burn through."

James hummed. Harry could practically hear the thoughts running around his father's mind until James finally spoke again.

"What's it like?" His voice was quiet.

"What's what like?" Harry asked as he turned around, resting his forearms on the railing and facing James. The look in his father's eyes was enough to answer his question. "Dark magic?" James nodded. Harry sighed. "It's intoxicating." He swallowed. "It's like the very magic itself settles in your veins. And you're never quite the same after. It becomes a part of you. It's a phantom limb that you ache to stretch. It's an itch that can only be scratched by using more magic. And the more you use, the more it settles in your veins. It's your worst nightmare mixed with the best dream you've ever had. It sucks you in, wrapping around you until it changes you. Your thoughts change, your actions change. You want more and more of it until it feels like it's about to consume you." Harry had dropped his eyes from James's as he began, and he stared at the wooden porch. "Those who fall into that consuming feeling, those are the ones who are addicted. Bellatrix Lestrange for instance. I assume it makes you feel amazing." His throat felt incredibly dry. "But I never made it there. I could never take that final step. But I almost did."

* * *

Harry stared at the spider, examining it as though it were a foreign specimen and he was a scientist about to dissect it. 

"You've got to mean it, Hadrian." Riddle purred in his ear. "Intent is everything."

Harry sucked in a breath. 

"It's just a spider." The professor said soothingly. "It can't tell the difference between its normal actions and anyone you force on it. But you have to mean it, use your will to overpower the will of others."

He let out a breath. "Imperio."

Magic rushed through him, different than anything he felt previously. It was like a thousand nails were scraping his veins, but the pain almost felt...nice. It rushed through him and into his extended hand, as though he himself were a conduit for the magic to interact with the world. The spider twitched but otherwise didn't move until Harry's overtly sarcastic mind decided to do what it did best. One second, the spider was still and Harry thought he failed and the next it appeared to be dancing. He couldn't help the laugh that passed his lips. Riddle too seemed amused as the spider continued to dance across the table it was on.

"What did you think?" Riddle asked.

"For a moment, I thought it failed." He admitted. "And then I thought, it should do a gig or something so I'd know. And then," He waved at the dancing spider.

Riddle nodded and the spider stopped moving.

"Now, you've seen that aspect. You've seen that you can make others bow to your will. But can you keep yourself from bowing to the will of others?"

He knew this was coming, Tom had told him as much previously, but that didn't dampen his nerves when he turned toward his professor and the man raised his wand. He took in a breath, focusing on grounding himself as best he could. Maybe he could beat the Imperius Curse through sheer stubbornness. A question sat in Riddle's dark eyes and Harry nodded, answering it. A feeling washed over him, one of overwhelming peace. He didn't even hear Tom say the words, he just felt as though he were floating on a cloud. 

_You want to walk to me._ A voice whispered in his head.

Yes. He should. Walk toward Riddle.

But something was off. Something didn't feel right. No worries? The fog lifted from his mind and he was snapped back into reality. He blinked at Riddle, finding himself still in the same spot.

Riddle raised an eyebrow, evaluating him. "How did you do that?" He asked. 

"I don't know." He said, sounding breathless. "I just — something didn't feel right."

Tom nodded. "I will say you did that rather well." He gestured toward the spider. "Keep practicing."

Riddle watched him for the rest of their lesson as over and over, Harry bent the spider to his will. He eventually had him move up to something larger and more complex. Again and again, until Harry was shaking, he bent creature after creature to his will, including a house-elf. The elf was terrified in Riddle's presence, shaking and whimpering until Harry used the Imperius to calm him. The house-elf looked at him with large, round eyes and a look of reverence. He had always been nicer to the elves more than most, especially Draco. The elves enjoyed his presence in the kitchens, offering him so much food he thought he might burst. He sent the house-elf away and he vanished with a soft pop.

"That's enough for the day." Riddle brushed past him. "I think we should increase our lessons." 

"Why?" Harry asked. "Don't misunderstand," He back-peddled. "I enjoy our lessons but, why would we need to increase them?" He stepped closer to Riddle's desk with the man seated on the other side. "What's going on?"

Riddle's eyes scanned over his body, a movement Harry had become used to, especially after their kiss. Neither spoke about it afterward, Harry choosing to ignore it. Riddle, however, seemed to think Harry's restraint was him pushing too far too quickly. So, Riddle withdrew, only slightly. His eyes roamed more, his touches increased. It wasn't anything Harry couldn't handle, he would never admit that he welcomed it. 

"This is not your concern at the moment," Riddle answered quietly.

"Please, Prof-Tom." Harry stepped closer to the desk. "If there's something that I should I know-"

Riddle's dark eyes met his. "It is not your concern. If there is something that you need to know, I will tell you."

Irritation flicked in Harry's mind. His hand gripped the edge of the desk. Around his neck, the locket twitched slightly. 

"Just tell me," His voice came out harsher than he meant. 

Riddle's eyes flew to his. They held each other's gazes for a long moment, as Harry's irritation grew like a spark about to rage into a fire. Riddle stood and moved swiftly around the desk. He and Harry were inches apart from each other as Riddle came to a stop. 

"That temper of yours is only going to be exaggerated by the dark magic." His voice was low. "You should learn to control it."

"You should just tell me what's going on," Harry muttered through gritted teeth. His magic swirled within him, ready to react at a moment's notice.

Riddle's hand dropped on his shoulder and suddenly Harry came back to himself. He had stepped closer to the other, so much that he could feel Riddle's breath on his cheek. He took a step back, swallowing thickly. He dropped his head, wondering what exactly came over him before Riddle hooked his finger under his chin, forcing his head up. Harry focused on him once again. 

"It's all right," Riddle said quietly. "I won't let you lose yourself." Harry nodded feel ashamed at losing control. "Go," Riddle said gently. "Go be with your friends. We'll continue tomorrow."

Harry pulled himself from Riddle's grasp. He practically ran through the castle as he left the Defense classroom, finding himself in the Slytherin common room. His friends looked up at his frazzled demeanor as he looked around the room, as though he didn't know where he was. Draco's eyes met his and he held up a bottle. Harry moved closer and grasped the bottle, taking a large drink straight from it. He sucked in a breath as he dropped onto the couch next to Draco. 

"Firewhiskey?" He asked. Draco nodded accepting the bottle back. "What's going on."

"Truth or dare," Draco muttered. 

"We were just going over Draco's most embarrassing moments," Blaise said. "He picked dare."

Harry dropped his arm over the back of the couch behind his friend. "Did someone mention the time he tried to challenge a hippogriff and got a minor scratch and decide to scream like a baby?"

Draco groaned next to him and around him, the others snickered. 

"I can't believe we forgot that!" Pansy exclaimed. 

"How was your lesson?" Draco asked, attempting to change the subject. 

"Has your father said anything about something happening in the next year?" Harry asked, avoiding making eye contact with the others. 

"No," Draco shifted. "Why?"

"Riddle mentioned something," He rubbed his chin. "But he was very...vague." Harry shrugged after a moment. "Who's turn is it?"

"Yours now." Blaise looked around Draco at him. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth." He would regret this.

"You shagging Riddle?" Draco asked, his grey eyes focusing on the side of Harry's face. 

"No." 

Draco pouted as he took a swing of the firewhiskey. Round and round the game went, each of them taking a drink after an unsatisfactory answer or dare. Eventually, the game came back to him once again.

"Truth or dare?" Pansy asked.

"Dare." He was becoming bored with the truth.

"I dare you to snog someone in this circle."

"Is that the best you can do?" He asked with a smirk.

"Oh fine." Pansy huffed. "I dare you to snog Draco."

Harry shrugged slightly and turned to the side, his mouth colliding with Draco's. 

The game continued well into the night and the next morning, Harry awoke on the couch in the common room, Draco draped over him and Blaise draped over Draco. The others were in various states of disarray on the couches. His head thrummed as he extracted himself from the couch. He stumbled through the castle thinking first that he needed food. But the light pounded into his eyes like daggers and his mind felt as though it would rip itself apart. His feet carried him without his direction until his head was resting on the wooden door outside the Defense classroom. The door opened and Harry practically fell forward into Riddle's unsuspecting arms. The professor pulled him inside the classroom and Harry hissed in pain at the light.

"Had a little too much fun last night, did you?" Riddle teased. 

"Don't," Harry closed his eyes and swayed, forcing his eyes to open once again. "Hurts."

"Why are you here?" Riddle asked as the windows shut with a series of thumps. 

Harry pointed at his head and then sighed. "Didn't think Snape would be as understanding."

Riddle laughed and Harry winced. Before he knew it, a glass of water was shoved into his hand and he was being led up the stairs. Riddle deposited him on a soft surface but Harry didn't know what. He swayed slightly as he looked up at the professor. 

"I'm afraid water and sleep are probably your best cures." Harry nodded slightly, continuing to drink the water. "Sleep. You'll feel better." Riddle left the room then and Harry fell on his side, falling back into sleep.

* * *

For the next several months, Hadrian alternated back and forth between the Imperius and Cruciatus curses, casting them and learning to handle them when they were cast on him. He never understood the stories of torture until he had the Cruciatus curse running over him. Acid poured through his veins and knives drew across his skin. His body would writhe and he would feel screams rip from his lips. Again and again, until he could barely walk, he learned the Cruciatus curse in the most intimate way. Until it stopped hurting. It would feel like a twinge, slight pain that he could ignore. The Imperious curse no longer affected him and in moments of sheer stubbornness, he would do the opposite of what that gentle voice whispered to him. 

When the pain of the Cruciatus curse was gone and the Imperius curse never touched him, he knew there was one more he would have to learn. He failed constantly while Riddle reminded him that intent was everything. He would find himself practicing the other two, having mastered them. Riddle taught him more, and he learned more on his own time, eventually able to cast Fiendfyre without losing control, a skill he showed off to Riddle. The man never truly seemed impressed and Hadrian knew why.

The intent to take another life didn't come to Hadrian easily. He was never a pacifist, but he was not a murderer either. Or so he hoped. 

His moods began to vary widely, especially his temper. He became quicker to jump to anger. When he was happy he felt elated, and when he was sad he felt depressed. His moods varied wildly from moment to moment, making those outside his friend group seem to fear him more. He was always calmer around his friends, especially Draco. His temperament made for much more dramatic Quidditch games, as he drilled his team harder every week and every game they won. Other magic came easier to him and he began to grow bored in classes. 

The only person who it seemed could truly tame his emotions was Riddle. Hadrian would find himself in the professor's office, pacing like a caged animal, his anger threatening to boil over. A few words or a touch was all Tom needed to calm him and suddenly he felt like himself again. The locket made him worse, though he never realized it. Every time he grew angrier, the locket would twitch more on his chest and a quiet voice in his mind would goad him further. Every time Snape threatened detention, the voice in his mind would urge him closer to the edge. Every time another student collided with him on accident in the halls, the voice would tell him to turn and fight. At night he had dreams of Voldemort murdering his mother over and over before those dreams shifted into Hadrian murdering him. 

He would find himself outside Riddle's room over and over and more often than he cared to admit, he would wake up in the man's bed, though Riddle was nowhere in sight. 

He didn't know when, in his own mind, he shifted from Harry to Hadrian. But the more into the dark he went, the more Harry Potter faded and Hadrian Krínos flourished. 

In their last lesson of the year, Riddle let out a sigh. "It's now or never, Hadrian." 

His wand was pointed at the same spider he had controlled and tortured throughout the year. He twirled it in his hand, thinking over and over about the curse he was being asked to complete. For a moment, his mind drifted. Back to the dreams where he murdered Voldemort. He could see the flash of emerald and Voldemort's crimson eyes suddenly become lifeless. He returned to the moment, thinking of that same emerald flash, and the satisfaction his dream-self felt as Voldemort's body dropped to the ground. The man who murdered his mother. The man who forced him to hide. The man who nearly killed his father. Dead at his feet. He focused on the spider once more.

"Avada Kedavra." 

An emerald bolt shot from his wand and the spider dropped, lifeless.

Magic rushed through him and his heart pounded. He felt weightless, as though he had no cares or worries. He could feel the magic around him, making him feel as though he were suddenly awake for the first time. He was energized. He thought perhaps at that moment he could fly unassisted. He would touch the sun and walk away unscathed. 

"It's amazing isn't it?" Riddle's voice was breathless. "Taking the life of something else. Their life is in your hands and you can snuff it out in a heartbeat." Riddle was next to him, their bodies touching lightly. 

Hadrian didn't know where the boldness came from, why his sudden bravery decided to kick in at this moment. But it did.

He turned and grabbed the back of Tom's neck, pulling the man closer. Their lips collided in a heavy, rough kiss. The man didn't waste any time and bent to grasp his legs, pulling him upward so that Hadrian had no choice but to wrap around him. He didn't know how they ascended the stairs and moved through at least two doors, but suddenly his back collided with a bed he was all too familiar with. Hadrian's shirt was ripped from his body, as his magic hummed in his veins. He clawed at Riddle's clothes as the man's teeth nipped the skin of his chest. He ground upward, feeling his own hardness met with the hardness of the man. Riddle growled slightly as he vanished the rest of their clothing, seeming rather impatient. His hand wrapped around Hadrian's throat, pulling him upward as he bit into his lip. He followed willingly as his hands roamed the man's body, eventually finding their way to their target.

He wrapped his hand around Riddle's member, making the man groan in surprise. Their lips met once again in a rough kiss and he could swear he tasted blood. But the kiss was broken and Hadrian gave into one of his fantasies.

For months, he had dreamt of sex with Riddle. He dreamt of their bodies grinding together, of Riddle pushing inside him and setting his body on fire. He dreamt of taking Riddle in his mouth and making the man moan his name.

Hadrian pulled himself away from Riddle and lowered his body until his tongue flitted over the head of Riddle's cock. Tom's hand came to his hair as he lowered himself, sucking and bobbing. This wasn't the first time he had done a similar act, and he was no strange to pleasing men — and women — with his mouth. Most never lasted long, but Riddle wasn't most. He pulled Hadrian upward once again and pushed him onto his back. Riddle lowered himself on top of him and lifted his legs. He wasted no time pushing himself inside Hadrian with a rough thrust. A moan escaped his lips as he started moving. Their bodies ground together, their lips exploring the other's body, their hands moving everywhere their lips couldn't. He could hear the bed creaking under them with every movement which amused him. Riddle pushed faster and harder and Hadrian let out a series of moans. The locket bounced on his chest with every thrust until he felt himself about to fall over the edge. 

Riddle seemed to know he was close, as he pushed faster, his breath heavy in Hadrian's ear. Over and over he pushed and finally Hadrian let out a loud moan, feeling his body shake with pleasure as he came. Tom wasn't far behind him. 

It was a few minutes before Hadrian realized he wasn't satisfied. He didn't return to the Slytherin house that night.

* * *

James could tell immediately that something was wrong with his son the moment they were in each other's presence again. His eyes darted all over and his body was tense. He seemed to vibrate with a strange energy that he never had before. He twitched at every movement and he could barely sit still.

It was two days before James finally confronted him. He felt like he was living with a stranger, a very angry stranger. 

Harry was standing outside the house, seeming lost in thought when James approached him.

"We should talk," James began. "About what's going on."

"I'm fine," Harry muttered, his voice sounding lower and deadlier than it ever had. 

"Clearly you are not fine." 

"I said I'm fine!" Harry yelled. He turned to face James, his eyes blazing with anger and behind him, fire. It surrounded him, making him look terrifying, like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

"Harry?" James asked, backing away. He couldn't force himself to say anything else. "Harry!" He tried again. But Harry didn't seem to recognize him. This stranger stood as still as a statue as the fire raged around him. "Harry!" James was desperate.

"Who's Harry?"


	9. Hadrian, Harry, and Horcruxes

Harry saw the floor beneath him, coming closer and moving farther with every breath he let in and out of his lungs. His muscles burned as he lowered himself to the floor, studying the patterns in the wood. He pushed back up, every inch of him screaming with the burn of lactic acid in his veins. His arms shook with overuse as he lowered himself once more and forced himself upright again. He had bid his father good night an hour ago, but his energy level hadn't dropped. Even with the run, even when he bared his soul, he felt as though he might explode. James had fallen asleep already, Harry could hear the distinct sound of his snores echoing off the wooden walls and up the stairs to his room. He had probably stared at the photo of Lily next to his bed and fallen asleep when the lamp burned down enough that only shadows danced across her face. 

James wasn't in the room under him. James slept on one side of the house and Harry on the other, on opposite floors. But the cottage they lived in wasn't very big and sounds traveled easily. As James fell asleep, he probably heard Harry's grunts of exertion as he tried to work off the extra energy in his body. Harry debated jumping out the window and going for a run until he was tired enough. He had done it before. James had woken up more than once to find his son curled in a ball on the front porch. 

Harry had a hard time coming back from the pit he had found himself in. The first problem was remembering who he was, Harry Potter or Hadrian Krínos. James insisted over and over that he was Harry, but he had a hard time believing it. So, James brought out picture after picture of him and Lily, of Harry and Lily, of infant Harry chasing a ginger cat on a broom while James chased him. Harry looked over at the same ginger cat who blinked her eyes slowly at him. 

It was then that James revealed more to him; information he hadn't been privy to before he returned home with dark magic thrumming through his veins. 

Dumbledore had told James about Voldemort's ability to split his soul, creating something from dark magic.

_"Horcruxes," Harry said, his hands pressed against his chin._

_"Yes," James answered slowly. "How did you know?"  
_

_"Voldemort," The word sounded choked as he spoke so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Voldemort gave me a book." His hands dropped from his face and his head with them. But he said nothing more and James didn't press him._

_"He said it likely drove Voldemort mad. The act of splitting his soul. He told Lily and me that he no longer thought straight, consumed with a fear of death."_

_"Why would Dumbledore tell you this? What did he have to gain?"_

_"Gain?" James asked. "I don't know if there was anything to gain by it." James let out a sigh. "Know your enemy I suppose."_

_"Enemy," Harry repeated._

_"He told us Voldemort's real name too," Harry said nothing and James continued. "Tom Riddle."_

Harry had fought his way back to himself. James had helped when he could. Harry's nightmares changed until it wasn't Voldemort killing mother, it was him. He would come face to face with himself. Crimson eyes and a bloodthirsty smile and then he was engulfed in an emerald light, his other self walking away from the dead Potters. Harry had found Lambs Wart one night when he couldn't sleep. The next morning James found him fluttering around the kitchen before Harry told him his possible solution. They had taken to running every day in an attempt to wear down Harry's energy. If it wasn't James, it was Sirius and if not him, then Remus who grew antsier around the full moon and needed some way to expend energy himself. 

Over the summer he had told his father a million different stories about what led him to that day. And the more Harry fought off the effects of dark magic, the truer the story became.

James was lucky to have survived that day. Harry nearly killed him. 

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. The swirls in the wood came closer and then went away. Closer, further. Harry's glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, barely holding on by his ears as he pushed. Sweat dripped from his face, dripped down his eyelashes and onto his glasses, rolled down his spine. 

Up, down. Up, down.

"Not that I don't enjoy a good floor show, but you and I both know that won't help."

Harry shot upward, his eyes scanning the room. But with James asleep, who was speaking now?

Harry circled, his eyes looking at every nook and cranky in his room until he suddenly noticed a shadow, leaning in the corner of the room where the walls met just behind the door. The shadow seemed to take shape, dark eyes forming first and then the rest of the body. Sharp cheekbones, wavy brown hair, and a lithe build covered in black pants and a plain white button-down shirt. 

"Tom," Harry breathed. 

The man smirked as he removed himself from the wall and stepped closer to him. 

"You know that's both my name and not." He moved forward, prowling like a cat. "Come on, Harry. What's my other name?"

"Voldemort," Harry breathed. Tom smiled, his eyes flaring crimson for a moment.

"Very good," He purred. "But there's more." 

"More?" Harry half laughed the word out. "More? How could there be more? You're Voldemort. You manipulated me. You used me. You-"

"I had sex with you," Tom waved his hand. "Yes, yes. I've stolen your innocence. Though you weren't that innocent by the time you found your way into my bed if you do recall." He winked. "But that's all known information and water under the bridge and by far not at all interesting. There's one more piece to this very large puzzle and then you'll have the whole picture." Their bodies were nearly touching as Tom's eyes flitted between his own. "Figure it out." 

Harry sighed and lifted his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I don't care what game you're playing. I'm not playing it with you."

He backed away from Tom and sat with a huff on the edge of his bed.

"You're restless, aren't you?" Tom stared down at him. "Too much energy, no real way to expend it. Of course, you know how to take care of this." Harry raised an eyebrow. "It's dark magic, Harry. The only real way to counter the effects of dark magic is to use more dark magic. Keeps the rest of the feelings at bay." He moved so he was closer to him. "The restlessness, the temper, the flares of magic, the feeling of falling into an abyss and you'll never climb out." Tom knelt in front of him. "You know I've trained you for years to use dark magic. You know I murdered your mother." Harry's eyes shot to his. "Oh do call it what it is, Harry. There's no point in wasting time. I murdered your mother, groomed you for dark magic, and then you found your way into my bed. These are the facts." He paused "Most of them."

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to know any more. Everything he already knew was too much.

"Is there another way to counter the effects of dark magic?" 

Tom grinned wickedly. "One."

The pieces clicked into place in Harry's mind. "Do you ever think about anything else?"

He pushed Tom away and stepped around him.

"Yes. But you make it so easy to offer the best, or worst, solution."

Harry could feel his temper flaring. He was glad he took off the locket, it only made him worse. It was like the locket goaded him, pushing his anger to the brink until he was about to explode. He had shoved it under his pillow and hadn't looked back. 

The locket.

Harry felt himself turning very slowly to see the other. He was younger than the Tom he knew, his cheekbones sharper and his eyes more sinister.

"You're a horcrux."

Tom clapped his hands once, his eyes lighting up. "Very good, Harry." He pulled the locket from under Harry's pillow. "This one to be exact." He tossed the locket to Harry who caught it easily.

"Why would you be dumb enough to hang a piece of your own soul around my neck." Harry threw the locket onto the bed. "Prophecy. Fated architect of your doom. All that jazz." 

Tom laughed. "Prophecies are such fickle things. You don't often understand them until you reach their conclusion. Or you're incredibly smart." He grinned. "I happen to be the latter."

Harry snorted. 

"So, you've figured out that I'm a horcrux. You've figured out that your precious Tom Riddle is actually Voldemort who murdered your mother and gave you that scar." Tom had moved closer while he spoke and eventually moved Harry's wild hair off his forehead, focusing on the lightning bolt scar.

"You didn't answer my question," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"I did. A long time ago." Tom grabbed his chin and forced Harry's eyes to meet his. "You're _mine_. What better way to stay that way than to have a piece of me keeping an eye on you at all times. Here to pick up the pieces if you slipped."

Harry batted away his hand. "My whole life I've dreamt of nothing more than killing you." 

"I know," Tom said quietly. "But here I am. And you can't do it."

"Why?" Harry practically growled the word.

"I've thought about this. As you've said you spent your whole life dreaming of killing Voldemort. But I have also spent the last six years making you dream of me. I gave you special attention, raised you above everyone else. I gave you private lessons, told you my secrets and promised to keep yours. I'm in your mind, Harry Potter. You wanted Voldemort for an act you couldn't remember but you've wanted me for so much more. The attention, the lessons, the _sex_. I have given you far more than I took. And you care." Tom walked around him. His fingers wrapped around Harry's throat and pulled him back against his chest. "And now, you know that I'm the only one who can truly understand you. Because we're alike. Your temper, your feelings, your need. I understand it. Not your father or your uncles or even your friends. Me.

"It's painful, isn't it. To know that the one thing you hate most on this planet is the only one who can understand your heart." Tom's breath was hot against his ear and cheek as he spoke.

His resolve was quickly draining from him. 

Why did this man do this to him? Over and over, year after year, Tom drew him in close. He tried his best to ignore him, to think all he had to do was finish his seventh year and the professor would be no more than a frustration of his past. He buried his frustrations in people, in lessons, in Quidditch. Nothing worked. He didn't tell his father about the Defense professor, though if he had he might not be in this situation now.

The more Tom spoke, purring into his ear, the more Harry wanted to give in.

A particularly loud snore echoed up the stairs and suddenly Harry's resolved snapped back into place. He remembered the terrified look in James's hazel eyes and he gripped his scalding hand. He looked at Harry as though he didn't know him, and Harry didn't know himself. He collapsed after that, begging James to forgive him.

The inside of James's wrist was still scarred.

"No." Harry pulled himself away. "I won't go down this road again." 

Tom grinned fiendishly. "Oh, Harry. You're already on it."

But he vanished. Harry searched the room but found no evidence that Tom was still around. He walked to his bed and picked up the locket which twitched in his hand. He shoved it back under his pillow and flipped off the light in his room before falling face first into the pillow, sleep claiming him instantly.

* * *

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

_Fingers caressed his bare torso. His head pressed against the warmth of a stomach._

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

_He reached behind him and grasped the other arm, hauling himself upward._

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

_Lips crashed together and his heart pounded in his chest._

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

_A hand wrapped around his member and he moaned loudly, letting his head fall back._

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

_Teeth sunk into his shoulder as he neared the edge._

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

_He was almost there. Just a little more._

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

* * *

He woke in a particularly bad mood the next morning. He tore off his clothes, which were glued to his skin by sweat, and entered the shower, not even bothering to let the water warm up. The cold sunk into his bones but did nothing to cleanse the sluggishness and anger from his mind. He toweled off quickly and returned to his room, dressing in shorts and a t-shirt. He trotted down the stairs, the smell of breakfast dragging him to the kitchen. He ate quickly, glaring at his food the whole time as though it personal slighted him. It took a snap of his fingers to clean the dishes and then he was pacing, waiting for James to ready himself for their morning run. 

James grinned at him as he returned. "Ready?"

Harry didn't answer but practically launched himself out the door. James followed, knowing better than to push Harry too hard when he found himself in moods like this. The two ran, following the same path they ran every morning. Through brush, over rocks, next to the river, over concrete and stone. Over dirt. Harry ran fast, letting his father fall behind him. He could probably run circles around him given his mood and energy level. He did a few times. 

By the time they returned home, Harry felt too much like a caged animal to go inside. So, instead, he ran circles around the house with the cat moving from room to room to watch him. He dropped the ground and did a few push-ups before standing and running again, before dropping again. He knew James was watching him but he couldn't bring himself to care. The last time he felt something similar...

Harry ran to the porch and gripped the wood of the overhead for the porch, pulling himself up so his chin was level with his hands over and over. He heard the door open behind him and James stepped out onto the porch. He dropped and turned to face his father who held the Lambs Wart out to him. He took one and lit a fire in his hand, lighting it quickly, before snuffing the fire out just as fast. He inhaled, letting the burn of it chase the burn of the morning air and lactic acid from his body. 

James looked him over, those hazel eyes looking for the fuse that set him off, but failing to find it. Instead, James pulled himself onto the railing and the pair sat in silence.

"I feel like I need to hit something," Harry said as he sucked the final drag of the Lambs Wart.

James laughed. "Well, why didn't you say so sooner." He waved Harry behind him who followed curiously. 

There was a door which lead to a hidden basement. Harry knew of its existence, but he was never curious enough to lift the round handle and journey into the dark. 

"When you were younger," James began, "Just after your mother died. I was so angry. I was still a kid, Harry, when we had you. Only a few years older than you are now. But after I left Hogwarts I joined a war. Your mother and I married and had a small wedding. And then you came along. So much happened so fast in so little time. And then we were in hiding. But it didn't work. We put our faith in the wrong person. And it cost your mother her life. I knew I wouldn't take it out on you. I would never do that to you. I didn't want to become Sirius's mother. And I never wanted you to feel afraid of me. You would already grow up with so much on your shoulders, I didn't want to be another burden."

Harry listened intently as they journeyed down a set of rickety stairs. 

"So I came up with this." James waved his hand and suddenly the room came alight. Harry's jaw fell open. James turned and looked at him over his shoulder, a mischievous grin on his face. "What? You thought you were the only one who could do that? Give me more credit. You are my son after all."

The room was mostly empty except for a large bag hanging from the ceiling and a mat that covered the floor. 

"I used to bloody my hands almost every day coming down here and punching this. You slept a lot as a child. After a while, I didn't need it anymore and sometimes I just came down here to think." He ran his hand over the fabric. "I'm glad I never got rid of it though. I guess I can come in handy." He gestured to the bag. "Have a go. I'll be upstairs if you need me." Harry moved closer to the bag and was almost to it when James grasped his shoulder. "I didn't have anyone to heal my hands after I bloodied them raw on that." Hazel eyes met emerald. "But you do. I'm here for you, Harry."

A lump formed in his throat that prevented any words from escaping. But his father just tapped his shoulders and ventured back up the stairs, leaving Harry to his anger and the bag.

His first punch was a little hesitant, feeling the weight of the bag and the texture of the fabric. Then again, harder. And a third time, harder still. He let out a frustrated grunt as his pace increased. Visions of his face with crimson eyes, Voldemort, the locket; swam before his eyes as his hands repeatedly contacted the fabric. Over and over until blood caked his fingers and the bag. If he could scream in pain, he would, but he couldn't muster any more emotions. 

When he finally joined James once again, his father had food waiting for him and healed his hands without a word. 

After they finished, James evaluated him. "You don't have to go back you know." Harry met his eyes. "We could just leave. Fake your death and vanish." He waved his hand. "You don't have to face him again. We could find a way to have you transfer to Beauxbatons or Ilvermorny. I've always wanted to see America."

"You would do that? Leave behind your home, your friends."

"It's not just my home and friends that we would leave." James sighed. "But I would. To protect you. To save you. If that's what you needed we could pack up tonight and burn this place down. Start over. You could be an auror in America. It's a big country, we could lose ourselves. Or you could become a member of the French Ministry of Magic. France has always kept its distance from everything here." He waved his hand flippantly. "We could see the architecture and the history. And the food."

Harry laughed and James let out a relieved huff. "As much as I would like that," He looked at his father. "We can't. _I_ can't. I have to finish this."

James shook his head. "I never wanted this for you." 

"I know."

That night, Harry returned to his room and shut his door with a soft click before sliding down against it and landing on the floor. 

"Hadrian Krínos is an interesting name." A voice said, but Harry didn't bother to look up to see the owner. He knew who it was. "Hadrian means 'of the dark' and Krínos is Greek for lily. A way to pay homage to your mother, no doubt. 'Dark Lily.' What a name." Harry's frustration began to build again, and his anger along with it. "I knew who you were from the moment I set eyes on you, for several reasons. Some you probably know, others I won't tell you, yet. But Hadrian Krínos was a bit of a giveaway. Sentimentality and all that."

Harry looked up at Tom. He was stretched along Harry's bed, his hands folded behind his head and staring at the ceiling.

"Had a bad day, did we, Harry?"

"Shut up."

"It will only get worse until you deal with it."

"Shut up," Harry growled through clenched teeth.

"Repression isn't exactly a coping mechanism."

"Shut up!" Harry yelled, launching to his feet.

"Or what?" Tom challenged, moving to prop himself up on his elbows. "You can't kill me, Harry."

Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration, pulling on it slightly and then letting his hands drop to his sides with a huff. He paced around the room, feeling Tom's eyes on him at all times. 

"I can help you." Tom's voice was quiet.

"I said shut up!" Harry marched toward the other and grabbed the front of his shirt. Anger thrummed in his head and his magic pulsed through his veins.

Tom grinned, his eyes focused completely on Harry's. 

He let out a frustrated sigh before his lips came to Tom's. The other's arms came around him and the collapsed onto the bed under them. Tom's nails ran along his spine and he shivered before pushing himself against the other.

"I hear hate sex is better anyway," Tom muttered against his throat. 

Harry ignored him in favor of pulling off their clothing. Flesh met flesh and before Harry knew it, Tom flipped them. One of his hands fisted in his hair while the other trailed down his body and before he knew it, pushed into him. He groaned and his back arched. Tom added another finger and then another, pushing inside him faster. Harry writhed under him before Tom finally decided to replace his fingers with something distinctly bigger. Their bodies ground together as he pushed into him, gripping his hair and biting along his neck and torso, leaving a trail of red marks that would vanish by morning. 

Tom lifted his legs as he sat up, draping them over his hips and grabbing Harry's for purchase. He thrust forward, harder and faster, and Harry couldn't help but notice how incredibly good looking Tom actually was. Especially with the thin gleam of sweat on his pale skin and the way his hair was tussled more than normal. He dropped his head back, exposing his throat as he pushed more, demanding more from him. 

Harry let out a moan as his back arched. Tom's hand moved to shoulder and again, flipped them. Tom's back was now against the wall and Harry was straddling him. He idly wondered how Tom was so agile in moving the two of them as he began to shift up and down. Tom's fingers dug into his hips and he moved faster, feeling his heart pound in his chest. One of Tom's hands slid up his side before wrapping around his throat and pulling him down. Their lips crashed rather unceremoniously as his hand ventured to Harry's hair and pulled. His head fell back once again as Tom bit into the soft flesh at his throat, forcing a moan from him. 

He didn't know how long they were in that position until they moved again, both on their sides and grinding into one another. Harry buried his face into Tom's collar bone while Tom gripped his back, finding purchase against his shoulder blade. He could feel the heat from the other's body, feel the sweat on the other's skin. Their legs were twisted together as Tom thrust. He could hear the sound of skin hitting skin, he could feel his body shift with every movement. He felt every time Tom his that sweet spot within him. But Tom seemed to hit more than that. It was as if every thrust pushed them closer together on several levels until he couldn't tell where he ended and Tom began. 

When he finally reached the edge and fell over, Tom wasn't far behind him. 

He would be lying if he said he didn't feel content. They lied on his bed, Tom's arm under his head and his under Tom's. The other's fingertips ran over his hot flesh. Neither said anything and eventually, the movement of fingertips on skin made him fall into a dreamless sleep.

He was alone when he woke up.


	10. The Magnificent James Potter

James held Harry tightly against him. He shifted in his father's arms, his wide, emerald eyes searching for something he couldn't understand. The two of them were draped in his cloak in Harry's nursery, Lily's body on the floor between him and the crib.

It was sheer luck that he'd had the cloak on him when Voldemort entered the house. He had intended to scare Lily with it when she wasn't looking, but Lily had yet to enter the room once again. She was walking Harry around the house to tire him out. He had seen Voldemort coming through the window just seconds before the front door became the back door.

"Lily! Take Harry upstairs and get ready to run! I'll hold him off!"

He grabbed his cloak and wand and rushed after the dark wizard. Voldemort had no idea where James was, his Quidditch skills allowing him to move quickly. Voldemort's attempts to kill him quickly became an attempt to stun him. That worked. James felt his body hit the ground, but he was still covered by the cloak, making himself invisible to Voldemort who then ventured up the stairs. 

He couldn't move, couldn't do more than listen as the door to Harry's nursery blasted inward. 

"Stand aside, girl."

_Lily._

"No."

_Harry._

"Stand aside!" Voldemort repeated.

"Never." Lily's voice was confident. He could imagine her with her vibrant red hair and emerald eyes staring defiantly at Lord Voldemort.

"Very well. Avada Kedavra!"

James wanted to scream, but he was frozen in place, no matter how much he struggled. 

_Harry. Harry!_

He fought against the heavy weight of his body. If he could just stand, he could distract Voldemort and maybe manage to grab Harry. Maybe they could even run. He just had to move. He could hear his breath quicken with his attempts, but his body lied still.

"It's curious, isn't it," He could hear Voldemort speaking, likely to the child in the crib. "A prophecy that brought you and me together now, Harry Potter." There was a pause as James felt his leg twitch slightly. He struggled, moving the sluggish weight of his body to the stairs. "I have great plans for you."

_Just a little farther._

"We will meet again someday, Harry Potter."

_HARRY!_

"Avada Kedavra."

An explosion echoed above him, shaking the entire house with it. Debris fell down the stairs and dust shifted through the air. He pulled himself to the stairs, dragging his limp body behind him. He could barely move his arms and while his leg twitched, it was useless to him. He was grateful he had always been athletic. As a student, his team captain had an unorthodox training routine, forcing him and his teammates to run often or do various strength exercises. On the full moon of every month, he also had quite the workout trying to run after a werewolf. Both he and Sirius were more than equipped to deal with the training regimen that accompanied enter the Ministry as aurors when the time came. 

He hauled himself up the stairs, one step at a time. It was a lengthy process and at some point, his legs joined the effort. Harry's room was at the end of the hall. He grasped the railing of the stairs and pulled himself upward, swaying slightly on his legs. His body felt like lead as he moved down the hallway. Bits of ceiling and toys were strewn across the hallway with increasing frequency as he neared Harry's room. His heart pounded in his chest as the floor creaked under his weight. He was afraid of what he would find as he entered Harry's room.

Until a single cry pierced through the air.

Maybe it was fatherly instinct or pure adrenaline that helped him run the last bit into Harry's room. Harry clutched the bars of his crib, swaying slightly, a bloody cut on his forehead. James rushed forward and pulled Harry into his arms. He grabbed a blanket from Harry's crib and dabbed at his forehead, revealing the lightning bolt cut underneath. He pulled him against his chest, his hammering heart not likely to calm his son but he couldn't force himself to hold him any looser. He turned, first spotting fiery red hair. Lily's body was in an awkward position, clearly having dropped from her defensive position in front of Harry. 

James could feel the fissure that opened up in his heart as he dropped to his knees.

"Lily?" He knew it was ridiculous. He knew she was dead. He heard the killing curse. But she looked as though she were stunned. Her emerald eyes were open but her face was soft, frozen in place. He reached out hesitantly, his hand shaking. "Lily?" He pressed his hand to her cheek. Her body was still warm, but there was no movement under his touch. No curl of her lips, like there was every time he woke her with a touch and a kiss.

"Lily?!"

He grasped her shoulder, some part of his mind still struggling with what he could see in front of him. He shook her shoulder slightly, her body shifting with his movements and nothing else.

"Lily." He breathed her name, some part of him realizing she was gone. 

He curled his arm back around Harry, who was shifting against his chest. He rocked on his heels, feeling but not really comprehending the tears that were running down his cheeks. Lily was gone. Just like that. One minute he was waiting to scare her, it was Halloween after all, and the next she was gone. He cradled Harry against him, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He cried. Harry clung to him, as if sensing his father's despair but didn't know why. 

James tucked his head, kissing the top of Harry's, resulting in a face full of hair in the process. 

A sound downstairs distracted him. His head shot upward, eyes searching everywhere. His cloak was inexplicably still wrapped around one of his legs and he grasped it and pulled it over himself and Harry, shuffling into the corner of the room. 

For a moment, there was nothing. No sound, no movement. And then the creak from the hallway. James pulled Harry closer to him and held his breath as a figure appeared in the room. 

Severus Snape.

It was a look of pure horror that crossed the man's face as his body collapsed next to Lily's. He drew her up against him, tears streaming openly down his cheek and his breath coming in rapid pants as he rocked with Lily's body in his arms. 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Lily." He repeated the phrase over and over as if she could hear him. 

His cried changed to hiccups as he pulled her away, examining every feature of her face. Then, as if the thought shoved itself into his mind, his eyes shot toward the crib, spotting the bloody blanket. He then looked up, noting the gaping hole in the ceiling. He turned back to Lily.

"James-" He gasped slightly. "James and Harry." He rocked himself, touching Lily's face gently and brushing her hair back. "They aren't here." He hiccuped. "I'll find them, Lily. I am so sorry. But I'll find them. I'll keep them safe. For you. For you, Lily." 

Another sound echoed through the house and Snape's head shot toward the door. He aggressively wiped the tears from his face before setting Lily's body gently on the ground. 

"I'll find them, Lily." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you."

He stood and with a soft pop, he was gone. James let out a breath and shifted forward. Another noise echoed from downstairs. His mind flew. It could be a Death Eater, searching for their wayward master who was blown through the ceiling of Harry's nursery. Or it could be an Order member, searching for them. Either way, he couldn't risk it. He moved across the room on his toes. He reached with one hand, keeping his wand and Harry in the other, and opened the window to his nursery with a soft crack. He pushed it open and slid outside, one let at a time. The drop would hurt, but far less than any death that could come at the hands of the Death Eaters. 

James let his body take the weight of the drop, Harry crying out slightly at the jolt. He did his best to comfort his son as he readjusted the cloak around them. He creeped out from around the house, looking out front. Sirius's bike sat just outside the house.

"James! Lily!" Sirius's frantic voice echoed from inside the walls. "Harry!" He heard a crash. "James! Harry!" He was surprised that he could hear Sirius thunder up the stairs. "Oh, my-LILY!"

He would tell Sirius and Remus he was alive later. He knew he could trust them. Sirius practically lived at his house when they were teenagers and Remus had no reason to betray him. He should have suspected Peter. Peter had a reason. Fear. Fear drove people to the worst of places. He should have known. He should have guessed that Peter's fear would be his undoing. 

James backed away from the house as Hagrid appeared, lumbering toward the door.

* * *

"Daddy?" Harry's soft voice carried through the cabin and woke James from his semi-sleep on the couch.

He jumped to his feet and ran up the stairs, pushing open the door to Harry's room. Harry sat with his feet dangling over the edge of the bed, swaying back and forth. His head was hung and his shoulders slumped. James stepped into the room and Harry looked up, his round, emerald eyes finding his fathers.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Harry."

"I-" James waited patiently. "I had a bad dream." 

James nodded. "Bad dreams happen. It's completely normal." He moved closer and knelt in front of him. "I have bad dreams too. So do your uncles. It's ok. But you're safe and I'm here with you." 

Harry lept off the bed and wrapped his arms around James's shoulders. He let out a breath as he pulled his son closer, letting Harry hang on as long as he wanted. 

"I promise you, you're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you." He could feel Harry nod against his shoulder. "Do you want me to stay?" Harry nodded again. "All right." James stood with Harry still clinging to his neck. "You've gotten strong. I bet if I let go you'll just hang there." Harry giggled. "Ready?" Harry nodded again.

James let his arms drop just slightly and Harry still hung, clinging to James's neck. 

"Told you!" James brought his arms up slightly. "Hang on." He grasped Harry's sides, knowing Harry's reaction. The boy yelped, his arms dropping to cover his sides, but James held on as Harry giggled. James twirled him slightly before gently dropping Harry onto his bed.

Harry giggled more as James tickled him, making him twitch and giggle more. Harry squirmed and James felt the smile grow larger on his face. 

"All right now, time to go to sleep." He pulled the covers of Harry and slid into the bed next to him. Harry sighed slightly.

"Good night, Daddy."

"Good night, Harry."

* * *

Severus waited as the end of the day came. Classes droned on and his students annoyed him to no end. When the end of the day finally arrived, he waited more. For dinner to pass, for the students to return to their houses. He was the only professor with his quarters in the dungeons, nearest his classroom. As well in the dungeons was Slytherin house and a boy with wild raven hair and striking emerald eyes. 

A soft knock on the door caught his attention and he stood, moving swiftly to open it. 

Harry Potter looked every bit like his father. The same build, the same round glasses, the same wild hair though Harry's was inexplicably worse than his fathers. But his eyes. Those were Lily's. Severus gestured for the boy to enter and he did, hesitantly. His eyes roamed around his study as his hands twirled together in front of him. 

Severus looked him over, the scared boy in the Slytherin uniform.

"What was your father thinking?" Harry jumped at his voice.

"My-my father?" He avoided looking at him, finding everything else in the room infinitely more fascinating. 

"Yes. Your father." Severus let out a protracted sigh. "I know who you are."

Harry's shoulders straightened. "I'm Hadrian Krínos. I'm in your class, Professor. Of course, you know me."

_Stubborn, like his father. And his mother._

"I mean I know you're Harry Potter."

The boy froze. His emerald eyes hardened and for once, he looked Severus in his eyes. 

"I don't know who you're talking about." Harry turned and made his way toward the door, his confident stride reminding Severus of his father.

"You should know by now that if I haven't turned you in, I have no plan to." Harry's hand was on the door as Severus spoke. He stood in place, seeming to think over what he was told.

"I know." He said quietly. "That's what my father said."


	11. The Life and Love of Lily Potter

Sirius looked around at his surroundings. He stood in a white tent in the Weasley's backyard. The Burrow loomed over them, casting a shadow in the evening sun. He leaned against a table covered in a purple cloth with a carving of a stag with lilies woven through its horns in the center. Sirius smiled and turned his head toward what he really desired, the massive cake across the tent. He ignored it though, in favor of watching the dance in the center of the room. 

It was a miracle that they had managed to tame James's wild hair. But he was nothing short of a miracle worker himself as he and a team, including Remus, managed to tame his wild locks. He was dressed in a long, black dress robe with his mother's golden bracelet clinging to his wrist. He held Lily tightly in his arms, almost as though he were afraid she might blow away if he let go. Sirius was inclined to agree with that assessment as Lily's dress was long and flowing and looked like it was heavier than her. Her dress was a light pink, making her hair look like fire. Her vibrant red hair was braided back with a small lily holding two pieces together at the back of her head. Lilies were also cascading down the back of her dress and onto the train which flowed to the floor. Each table, not like there were many of them, was covered in a different color, culminating in the long table at the head of the tent. The cloth covering it had a stag and doe embroidered onto it in front of the chairs that were James and Lily's respectively. The table Sirius was currently leaning against was occupied by one other person, Remus.

Most of the wedding guests were Order members. Dumbledore had briefly appeared during the ceremony but was long gone by the time the reception came along. McGonagall had also appeared during the ceremony and stayed long enough to toast the bride and groom before she too vanished. Sirius was surprised that the Weasley's had offered their yard to the wedding. While Arthur and Molly were members of the Order, they were less active due to their children. Alice and Frank Longbottom also attended the pair swaying together as they watched James and Lily dance. Remus was puttering around the party. Sirius knew what time of the month it was, the full moon was in two days, and as a result, Remus was more anxious than usual. 

As the song ended, Sirius sighed with relief. The small group flooded the dance floor as Sirius wove his way toward the newlyweds. He looked back and forth between them before offering his hand. 

"Might I cut in?"

"Which one do you want?" James asked, eyeing him.

"Whichever will dance with me. You offering?"

James laughed and shook his head. "I'll have the next dance." He spun Lily before depositing her in Sirius's arms. "Keep an eye on this one." 

Sirius didn't know which of them he was talking to.

He pulled Lily against him and wrapped an arm around her waist as their hands clasped. They swayed slightly to the music as others spun around them, enjoying themselves.

"I didn't think we'd see any smiles until the war ended," Lily said quietly as she looked around at the party guests.

"That's why a wedding was necessary. Some good in the world." Sirius answered before lifting her slightly and spinning her around. Lily laughed as he set her back down. "While the happiness of others is all well and good, I'm sensing some sadness from you."

Lily swallowed and let out a sigh. "I invited my sister. I thought-" She cut herself off. "I hoped-" She stopped again and sighed once more.

"You hoped she would come." Sirius finished. Lily nodded, her eyes avoiding his.

"I'm no stranger to sibling disappointment." Lily's vibrant eyes finally met his. "It's ok to want your sister. You are human, Lily Potter. Witch or no, she is your family and it's ok to want her at your wedding." Sirius let go of Lily's hand to wipe the stray tear from under her eye. "But you don't deserve pain for her prejudice. You're here." He spun her once more. "With your husband and his idiot best friends. You're my sister now, Lily Potter. I would fight the world for you."

Lily smiled and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Sirius." He grinned in response as the song ended. "Now, let's find my husband because I know you want your dance with him too."

He let out a barky laugh as Lily searched for James in the crowd. They found James and Remus talking idly before Lily tapped his shoulder. 

"My turn?"

"Your turn." Sirius held out his hand and gave a slight bow. "May I have this dance?"

James laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully before taking his hand. Sirius waggled his eyebrows over his shoulder as Lily moved closer to Remus. He offered a slight smile before offering his hand to her and they followed James and Sirius to the dance floor. James grasped his hand and pulled them together as they began to sway to the music.

"Enjoy your dance with Lily?" James asked.

"Making chit chat while on the dance floor, nice." Sirius teased.

James laughed. "I was remembering the first time we danced together."

Sirius nodded. "You were getting ready to ask Lily to a ball." Sirius rolled his eyes. "You would think with your pureblood parents, you would have been taught to waltz since age two."

James laughed. "No. My parents weren't like that. I was so worried I would step on Lily's feet."

"I ran away from home and was practically living in your bedroom," Sirius continued. "You kept pacing around, worrying, and I couldn't sleep. So, I offered to help."

"I don't think we slept that night," James said with a laugh. 

"Your parents asked what we were doing all night but you were too embarrassed to say. I think they thought something much worse." 

James leaned his head back and nearly cackled. "Oh, they did."

The song ended and James drifted away, once again finding Lily as Sirius wrapped his finger's around Remus's wrist and pulled him closer.

"I must dance with you too," Sirius declared. "It's only fair."

"Will you also dance with Peter?" Remus asked as he moved closer, wrapping one arm under Sirius's and clutching him tightly. 

"Peter left after McGonagall's toast. I think having so many Order members together was making him antsy. His leg bounced the whole ceremony and I thought he would launch out of his own skin."

Remus nodded. "I know the feeling."

Sirius forced the other closer until they were practically touching noses. "Don't think about that tonight. The full moon is two days away and I will be there when it comes." Remus nodded slightly. "But for now, we are enjoying the wedding of our two best friends and dancing until we can't feel our feet and eventually gorging ourselves on that three-tiered cake." Remus's amber eyes flew to the cake somewhere behind him. "I know you've been eyeing it all night just like me."

"Fine, fine." Remus huffed.

"We can be serious tomorrow." He spun the pair of them.

"I thought you were always Sirius." 

He let out a loud laugh that was echoed by James and Lily who were somewhere nearby. "You stole my joke."

"It's hard to steal a joke that you've used since first year," Remus muttered.

"Fair enough."

* * *

James was elsewhere when Lily went into labor. Sirius forgot whatever mission he was on for the Order the moment Lily entered the living room of the Potter house clutching her stomach with her eyes wide. Sirius sent a quick patronus to find Remus, James, and the Potter's midwife. Next, he stood and helped Lily move to the floor of the living room, propping her up with pillows and running around the house to find a series of blankets and towels. Lily breathed through what was likely a tremendous amount of pain as Sirius offered her a potion to help. She thanked him as she swallowed it in one gulp.

Sirius was no stranger to child delivery. He was two when his brother was born, but he had been there for other births in his family and read every book he could find once he learned Lily was pregnant. There should have been some magical way to make childbirth easier but unlike death, giving life had no magical intervention. 

Remus was the first to arrive. With the full moon having just past, he was his normal self. Unfortunately for him, Lily was much stronger than she let on and Sirius was concerned she might break some bones in Remus's hand. James arrived next, his hair more disheveled than normal as he practically slid across the floor to Lily's side. The midwife arrived last, but she arrived too late. 

Sirius handed the baby to his parents in an almost extreme amount of blankets. 

"Harry," Lily cooed as James rested a hand on his son's head. 

Sirius sank back on his heels, his heart pounding in his chest.

James looked up at him, his smile reaching his eyes. "We want you both to be his godfathers."

Remus's jaw dropped but Sirius smiled. "You already know I'd die for any of you. I'd do anything for him too." Sirius lightly pinched Harry's small toes.

* * *

"I'll hold him off!" James's voice echoed in her ears long after she launched herself upstairs with Harry in her arms. 

She kicked the door shut and locked it before setting Harry down in his crib. Harry's emerald eyes watched her as she knelt in front of his crib, meeting him eye to eye.

"Harry, I wish there was more time. I have so much to tell you. I wish I could watch you grow up and become the strong, brave, wonderful man I know you will become." She reached through the crib bars and cupped his cheek as a tear rolled down it. "Harry, mama loves you. Dada loves you." She whispered. "Harry, be safe. Be strong."

The stairs creaked and Lily shot upward. She rolled her shoulders and readied her wand, keeping herself between the door and the crib. Harry grabbed at her shirt as a loud bang rocked the nursery with the door flying inward. Voldemort stood in the doorway, his long flowing robe pooling around bare feet. She couldn't see much of him other than his glowing red eyes and pale, skeletal hands.

"Stand aside girl."

"No."

"Stand aside!"

"Never." _I'd rather die._ She thought. 

Voldemort let out a small sigh as he raised his wand. She knew death was coming, there was no blocking the Killing Curse. He would kill her. But he would not kill Harry.

The emerald light shot from his wand and she barely heard the words come from his mouth.

It was like she was ejected from her body. She felt nothing. No pain, no fear. Nothing. 

She hovered for a moment, looking down at her own body, before Voldemort glid further into the room, staring down at Harry in the crib.

"It's curious, isn't it," Voldemort said quietly. "A prophecy that brought you and me together now, Harry Potter." Lily's mind flew as she tried to comprehend what the man was saying. "I have great plans for you." She thought back to every conversation she ever had about Voldemort until her mind landed on one.

_"Voldemort split his soul through murder." Dumbledore's soft voice felt like a yell echoing over the table. "It's called a horcrux. I don't know how many he has made over the years, but I do know it makes him nearly immortal. And he will likely make more." Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his nose slightly. "You see, as a young boy, Tom Riddle feared death. Death took his witch mother and if she could die, so could he." He shook his head. "And now he will come for Harry, fearing death above everything else."_

Lily's mind halted. In her small study into horcruxes, she learned a few things. One of them was no one had ever made more than one. Another was that the soul was incredibly fragile. There was no telling what would happen if it was split more than once. It was delicate and could potentially fracture further.

Fracture further. Great plans.

 _No._ She thought.

"We will meet again someday, Harry Potter."

_No. NO. HARRY!_

But as the emerald light filled the room once more, she was pulled away and into darkness.


	12. The Tale of Lord Voldemort

"Where are Lily, James, and Harry Potter?"

He could feel the excitement from the pair behind him, mostly Bellatrix. He could hear her weight shifting on the floor as Pettigrew looked up at him with round, sad eyes. It would almost be pathetic if he could feel. However, he felt very little and all he felt for the rat of a man cowering on his floor was disgust. His eyes would dart away from his gaze before coming back to look at him again. A minute passed and then two before Pettigrew finally opening his mouth to answer the question.

"A-a cottage. In Godric's Hollow."

Voldemort hummed. "You will need to be more specific than that." But the other's tongue seemed to be trapped, only allowing whimpers to come from his throat. 

His impatience was growing and once more, he grasped Pettigrew's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Most minds were harder to enter than Pettigrew's, it was a little disappointing that he didn't put up a fight to Voldemort's invasion. Nevertheless, he found what he wanted. He stood once more and his eyes found Barty, still standing by the door. 

"Remove him. I don't care how and I don't care what you do with him after."

Excitement lit up in Barty's eyes as he practically dragged Peter Pettigrew from the room. It wouldn't matter what happened to Pettigrew after tonight. It wouldn't matter what happened to most of them after tonight. Voldemort's plan was in motion. After tonight, he would have the final piece of a very long puzzle in place. Severus would ask him to spare Lily Potter and he would try. But there was no guarantee that James and Lily Potter would ever leave their house again. In fact, there was no guarantee that the world would be the same again. Balls were in motion now, and they would not be stopped.

He turned toward Lucius and Bellatrix behind him. Both stood at attention where he left them, their eyes focused only on him. He could practically feel the thoughts and emotions rolling off of them. They had a good-natured rivalry between them, both eager to please Voldemort no matter the cost. However, Bellatrix was much more emotional in her devotion than Lucius. She would go to extremes for him. Lucius, on the other hand, while still devoted was much more cunning. He knew how to play the long game and he would use his ability to see ten moves ahead of his opponent to his advantage. It was one thing that made him an incredibly skilled chess partner. Both had laid their hopes and dreams at his feet, and now he would give them something in return. 

When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "You know what to do."

Both nodded and bowed in unison and walked around the mahogany desk, each passing him on opposite sides. He followed them from the room and toward an internal balcony that looked down into the depth of Riddle Manor. He could hear Pettigrew's whimpers below him before they were overshadowed by Bellatrix's maniacal, cackling voice. She commanded attention as she strode through the manor. Behind her was her a small army of her own making. She had chosen each person carefully to accompany her on her task that night and while there were only four of them, each made up for it with tenacity and maliciousness. Behind her on her right was her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange. Next to him was his brother, Rabastan. Trailing them was Barty making Voldemort idly wonder what he had done with his charge. 

The four of them disappeared out the front door and only seconds later, he heard the distinct sound of disapparition. 

He waited for the next movement, which came in the form of Lucius Malfoy appearing at his shoulder. Lucius bowed slightly before handing a seemingly unimportant, leather-bound diary to him. He nodded his approval and Lucius bowed once more before sweeping down the stairs and into the foyer where Bellatrix had just been. Behind him were Crabbe and Goyle. Lucius pulled his hood over his head and his twin shadows mirrored him. The three moved through the door and again a few seconds later was the distinct sound of disapparition. 

Others busied themselves with menial tasks while Voldemort watched, an invisible but omnipresent overseer.

After a while, Narcissa Malfoy made her turn venturing up the stairs. She came to a stop at Voldemort's side, her presence quiet but noticeable. 

"How is your son?" Voldemort asked quietly.

"He is well, my Lord," Narcissa answered. "He is learning quite quickly."

"Think he will be a smart child?" 

"Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort hummed in response. For a moment, the pair were quiet and contemplative. No one knew the full extent of Voldemort's plan, but most had gleaned one piece in particular.

Harry Potter would live.

"When he is old enough, I hope you would encourage your child to take another under his wing." His tone made it clear that he was not leaving room for hope. This was a demand.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Very good."

Sensing their conversation was over, Narcissa bowed slightly before taking her leave. 

Voldemort looked down at the diary in his hand, flipping it over to reveal the name engraved in gold lettering on the back.

_Tom Marvolo Riddle._

He thought back to his conversation with Lucius when he had first asked for the diary to be returned to his care.

_"Forgive me, my Lord. But is it not safer for the diary to be kept with me?"_

_"I would normally agree. And while what I have of myself would do in almost any other circumstance, I believe as though young Harry Potter would not be easily swayed without more of a soul."_

He drummed his fingers on the cover. _Hello again, Tom._

It was dark by the time he left for the Potter house. As he appeared on the street, he noted children around him, running in costumes with exasperated parents attempting to keep up. No one noticed him, but he noticed them. He approached the cottage. It was quainter than he was expecting with a modest garden and ivy climbing the walls. Through the window, he could James Potter with his wild hair and a sly look on his face. He barely made out the flair of vibrant red hair that disappeared into another room. He placed his hand on the gate and stood for a moment, thinking about everything that would need to come next. With a click, the gate swung open in front of him. The sound must not have been as quiet as he thought, because suddenly he heard the sounds of panicked scuffling inside. 

He blasted in the front door from his position halfway up the walkway. 

"Lily! Take Harry upstairs and get ready to run! I'll hold him off!"

_What a brave man._

He stepped one foot and then another over the threshold, expecting to find Potter facing him. Instead, he found nothing. His eyes searched from place to place until a spell came hurtling at him. He was able to protect himself in time and returned the volley. Where James Potter was, he didn't know. The pair volleyed spells back and forth. He would credit the man for being an excellent auror. No one else could have survived a duel this long unless they were skilled. He was incredibly light on his feet and Voldemort was growing impatient. There were still tasks to be done this night. He opted for a stunning spell rather than a killing spell. It would last long enough for him to complete his tasks. He heard a creak in the floor, barely audible, but it was enough. It was followed by a satisfying thump.

He continued up the stairs.

Voldemort could hear a faint whispering that became more and more audible as he came closer to the nursery door.

"Harry, mama loves you. Dada loves you." Lily whispered. "Harry, be safe. Be strong."

_Be strong indeed._

It was another heartbeat before he found his way into the nursery. 

"Stand aside girl."

"No."

"Stand aside!"

"Never." 

_So, she is brave as well. What a pair. What a child they made._

_And just for me._

He barely whispered the Killing Curse and emerald light shot from his wand, lighting the nursery briefly and encompassing Lily Potter. The light died, taking her with it and her body slumped to the floor.

Adrenaline raced through his veins.

"It's curious, isn't it," Voldemort said quietly. "A prophecy that brought you and me together now, Harry Potter. I have great plans for you." The child looked at him with emerald eyes, the same color as the Killing Curse. He knew then that his plans were perfect. They were meant to be. "We will meet again someday, Harry Potter."

He could feel the fragility of his soul, something he had never felt before. Adrenaline and pride rushed through his veins as he raised his wand once again.

"Avada Kedavra."

The emerald light shot toward the child and just as he expected, it instead rebounded and found him.

He wished he could say he felt pain or shock or anything. He felt rather numb. He floated listlessly for an unknown amount of time before his mind returned to him. It wasn't all at once. It was in fragments, much like how he felt. He was comprised of fragments, floating in the nothing between life and death. He knew this part would be difficult and on a less sane mind, nearly impossible. But he was Lord Voldemort. He could do anything. The fragment of soul bound in the diary floated somewhere near him, he could feel it. The most intact piece.

He focused as best he could, bringing himself back together one piece at a time. 

It felt as though the darkness moved with him as he felt each part of himself come together. 

There was a foot. There was a finger. There was a head, a heart, an arm. 

There was his soul.

He crashed rather unceremoniously onto the hard, leaf-covered ground. He felt something he had never felt before. Disorientation. His surroundings blurred before him, noises crashed together in a cacophony of sounds, sensations prickled at raw nerves. He could have been gone for years or minutes.

It was the latter.

He found his wand clutched in his hand, the bone-white Yew luminous in the moonlight. He stood, feeling cool air rush over his body. He should have felt embarrassment at his nudity, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

Sounds began to organize themselves, sights began to right themselves. He could hear two voices just on the other side of the now destroyed house. One he recognized easily, it hadn't changed much since his youth. Rubeus Hagrid. The other was no doubt a friend of the Potters. Perhaps Bella's wayward cousin, Sirius Black. He stepped carefully, one foot in the front of the other, through the yard until he found the gate that led toward the front. There was a crack of disapparition in the distance, but he knew who it was. James Potter on the run with his son. It didn't matter. For ten years, James would raise Harry, teach him who his enemies were and what his destiny was. And then Voldemort would take over. His attention returned to the present as he heard the purring of an engine. He watched as a young wizard with thick, curly black hair lift off the ground, the animal of a motorcycle taking him away. 

His attention turned to Hagrid who lumbered away from the Potter house.

"Hello, Hagrid." He greeted venomously. 

Hagrid turned and Voldemort could see fear in his hidden eyes.

"Tom."

Voldemort grinned, feeling his lips pull past his teeth baring them like an animal. "Goodbye, Hagrid."

Yet again, the Killing Curse flew from his wand and Rubeus Hagrid was no more.

Dark magic coursed through his new veins and he inhaled the night air. He felt more powerful than he had in years. He closed his eyes and followed a slight, omnipresent tug at the back of his mind. 

Curiosity. 

The emotion felt like it would drown him. How intense childhood emotions were.

He opened his eyes, feeling the moonlight soak into his skin. He grinned again, though no one would see it.

Voldemort turned back to the Potter house, seeing the collapsed roof and the faint flickering of almost extinguished candles. His work was done for the moment.

He returned to Riddle Manor, uncaring of the several eyes that scrutinized his new body. All it took was a look for them to be put back in their places. He went to the room he occupied and dressed himself. He went to his study and waited.

Hours ticked by.

Severus Snape returned, but his eyes were red and swollen. He had been crying. He said nothing as he found a corner of the room to occupy. They waited in silence.

Bellatrix returned next, her eyes wild with dark magic and a manic light. She seemed to be vibrating out of her skin. She waited, though she seemed impatient, for the last party of the night to return.

Lucius didn't make her wait long.

Severus stood looking out the window as dawn approached. Bellatrix and Lucius approached his desk, both bowing.

Voldemort looked to Bella first, raising an eyebrow as an indication for her speak.

"The Longbottoms are dead. No doubt the little one will find himself with his grandmother by noon." She bounced slightly.

"And the other Order member I sent you after?"

_Alastor Moody._

"Dead."

"Very good."

He turned to Lucius who stood calmly compared to the storm that was Bellatrix Lestrange next to him.

Lucius inhaled softly before opening his mouth, his voice smooth as ever. "Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore are both dead." He rolled his shoulders slightly, wincing as he did. "But he took Crabbe with him." He raised his left hand, or rather his absence of a left hand, into view. "And a piece of me."

Voldemort smirked. "You knew neither would die without a fight." Lucius nodded. "But alas, you have done your jobs well. You both along with the ones who accompanied you will be rewarded." Both bowed.

Voldemort produced his wand and with a quick wave, a new hand appeared on Lucius Malfoy's arm.

"Thank you, my Lord." Lucius bowed once more.

"It is only temporary." His head moved slightly to better see the wizard in his periphery. "Severus." The man stiffened slightly before moving closer, stopping just right of the desk. "You are more than adept at mastering potions," He began and Severus answered with a curt nod. "I'm certain there is a way to regrow our dear Lucius's hand."

Severus bowed slightly. "Yes, my Lord." He left the room with haste.

"I suppose we should compensate Crabbe's family." He said quietly.

"Yes, my Lord." Bellatrix and Lucius answered in unison. 

He hummed and waved his hand dismissively. He would have to think on it. 

The wizarding world was waking up to news of tragedy and death as the sun rose in the sky. Symphonies of anger, despair, and fear of the future would echo from every corner.

And he was the conductor. 


	13. I Own You

Harry stepped up one step at a time onto the train. Somewhere behind him was James, glamoured but there to wave goodbye to his son. They both knew the risk, the risk of putting Harry and Voldemort together once again. They were weapons, aimed at each other. It would take so little for them to be aimed at something else. Harry could feel their presence, James and Voldemort, looming over him. The angel and demon on his shoulder. James, who wanted so badly for Harry to be happy. Voldemort, who wanted Harry for his own. They were warring within Harry's head and he hated every second of it. And he hated how much he loved it. Harry reached the top step and turned, searching the crowd of parents behind him. It took him a second, but eventually, he found James in the crowd. His hair was lighter and tamed, his eyes were darker, but Harry could see beneath that, see his father under the disguise. He wanted to run to him, he wanted to leave and never see Voldemort again. He wanted to admit that he was afraid. Afraid that if he stayed on the train, he would never see his father again. Afraid that if that train went and he with it, there would be no more Harry Potter.

He swallowed his emotions. He had to do this, he had to confront Voldemort but more importantly himself once and for all. He raised his hand, a quiet goodbye to his father. James returned the gesture, their eyes locking for a moment and Harry saw what was under the glamour. Acceptance. James, his father, accepted him for who he was even if he was the darkness he fought inside. 

Harry turned and continued into the depths of the train.

He found somewhere he could be alone. He didn't want to deal with Draco right now, he didn't want to deal with the reputation he had cultivated for so long. He knew eventually, Harry would have to fade and Hadrian would have to return, but right now he didn't want to be Harry or Hadrian. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to mourn for his life, he wanted to mull over his choices, he wanted-

He grabbed at the locket hanging around his throat. Voldemort would know if he wasn't wearing it when he returned to Hogwarts but he wasn't certain what compelled him to wear it so early. He could have kept it in his pocket or his trunk and taken it out when the train was pulling into the station. But here it was, around his neck and weighing more and more by the second. He looked out the window, not at anything in particular. The train whistle blew and he caught one more glimpse of James Potter in the crowd before the train began to move.

The door opened and it felt like the entirety of Slytherin house spilled in. Draco flopped at his side, their hips pressing together. Pansy sat on his other side. Blaise sat across from him with Crabbe and Goyle squeezing together next to him. The six of them were crammed together in the small space. Draco threw his arm over his shoulders. 

"Here we are," Draco declared. "Together again."

"Together again," Harry echoed.

Harry watched as the countryside came into view, the train speeding through the lush green. The others talked around him, their conversation lively and at one point Harry was certain there was a verbal sparring match between Blaise and Draco, but it died out quickly. He could see his own face reflected in the glass. He could see Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy around him. He could see the friends he had cultivated at Hogwarts, the way he fit in to survive. He could even swear he could see Tom Riddle, hovering over his shoulder, watching him always. He pressed his face to the glass, hoping the cool material would calm the storm brewing in his mind. 

"You all right, Hadrian?" Draco asked in his ear.

"'m fine." He muttered before standing. "Excuse me, I need to get some air."

He left before any of them could protest. Harry pushed his way through the train. Students from other houses stood aside, the younger students avoided his eyes. When had he become this person? What did he do to become Hadrian Krínos? How far apart was he from Tom Riddle? He found his way to the back of the train and opened the door. There was enough room for him to stand and feel the air fly over him as the train continued on. A small rail was between him and the tracks behind him. He could do it. Jump. He could leave them all. James, Voldemort. No more destiny, no more pawns. Just him on his own.

He pulled the Lamb's Wart from his pocket and lit it. He sucked in, feeling the burn down his throat and into his lungs. He remembered the first time he rode the train. He remembered the excitement and fear of what lie ahead. He remembered thinking that he would walk where his parents walked, he would be close to where his mother had learned magic for herself. He remembered the awe at seeing Hogwarts for the first time, the million windows flickering in the night. He remembered the first time he stood atop the Astronomy Tower and looked over the expanse that was Hogwarts. The dips and curves of the castle, the feel of Quidditch, the excitement of things like Dueling Club and Defense. He sucked in another drag. He had gone to Hogwarts knowing his destiny, knowing why his mother died. He should hate Voldemort. He should hate Tom for manipulating him, grooming him to be the person he became. He should hate the feel of dark magic thrumming through his veins and the way it made him feel more alive than he'd ever felt before.

He leaned against the cold metal of the train and closed his eyes. He would see Tom again tonight. If he went with this turmoil, the other would know. If he went without it, he would fail. Who was Harry Potter? Who was Hadrian Krínos? Who was Tom Riddle? Who was Lord Voldemort? Layers upon layers of deceptions and masks. 

The door next to him opened once more and Draco stepped through. He walked to the rail and leaned against it, resting his arms on the metal. They were silent for a while as the train chugged through the countryside.

"When did you start smoking?" Draco asked, breaking the silence.

Harry looked at the Lamb's Wart. "This summer."

"Why?"

Harry shrugged, hoping the noncommittal answer would help. Harry was no stranger to acts of rebellion. Firewhiskey, sex on school property. Smoking shouldn't have surprised Draco, and to his credit, he seemed more curious than surprised.

"There's something you haven't told me, Hadrian."

"I haven't told you a lot, Draco. You'll need to be more specific." Harry did his best to pull on the Hadrian mask. 

"I'm on your side, you know." Draco looked out over the countryside. "You're my best friend, Hadrian. I've known you for years. Protected you. Stood by you."

"You wouldn't if you knew my secrets."

"I know you think that," Draco turned to face him, leaning again on the railing. "But-" His voice trailed off.

"But what, Draco?"

"But," Draco took his time saying the word. "I've known for a while that you are hiding something, but I have been here for you no matter what. I've been here through the special attention by Riddle, the revenge sex with Blaise, the firewhiskey, and that temper of yours." Harry looked at him. "But whatever you need, I'm here."

"What if what I need, puts you against people you love and care about?" _People who you're afraid of,_ he added to himself. 

"Then I'd have you." Draco stood straight. "Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, even Daphne. We're all with you. You've been our friend. You've never acted like we were friends because of my father. You've help Pansy in more ways than I can count. You and Blaise have history. Even Crabbe and Goyle would jump in front of spell for you."

Harry's throat felt tight. He stood and pulled the other against him in a tight hug, which Draco returned. He let him go with a tap on his shoulder before taking another drag of the Lamb's Wart. Draco nodded, sensing that Harry said everything he could through his hug before he returned to the train and the compartment filled with snakes.

The train seemed to take forever to pull into the station. Harry stepped off with his friends behind him. Together, they walked to the carriages and from there into the castle. Draco stood at his shoulder, confident and carefree as he tended to be. They took their places at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. He couldn't help himself as he looked toward the professor's table, his eyes locking with the dark eyes of Tom Riddle. _Voldemort._ His mind tried to remind him. But those eyes caught him. His heart stopped in his chest and he worried he stopped breathing. But the headmaster stood up and began speaking, welcoming the first years into the school. He tore his eyes away and lost himself in the sorting. Dinner began and still, Harry kept his eyes away. But he could feel Riddle staring at him. He laughed when Draco shoved some treacle tart in his face, he playfully bit at his friend when he tried to keep it out of his mouth. He laughed, he chatted, he did everything he should to appear normal. To appear Hadrian.

Somewhere in his mind, he could feel Hadrian creep back in. He could feel the ease he had established for himself, the strength and power he carried himself with. He could feel that small boy in first year who was taken under the wing of the most powerful professor in the school and groomed to be his equal. He could feel now how he lost himself in the intoxication that was Tom Riddle. This was his element, he was in control here. He was powerful and terrifying. His smiles became more genuine as the mask settled back onto his face. The locket no longer choked him. The weight of Riddle's eyes stopped bothering him. By the end of the night, by the time they were dismissed for curfew, he fell back into the persona of Hadrian Krínos. He was locked in a game of cat and mouse, with neither knowing who was the cat and who was the mouse. Hadrian was his most addicting drug, and he finally knew how to use him.

Harry looked over his shoulder, as they began shuffling from the Great Hall. Riddle's eyes met his and he winked before turning away.

Riddle called him to his office two minutes later. 

Hadrian pushed the door open, finding Riddle at his desk. He let the door close behind him and he leaned against it. Riddle looked up at him, his eyes looking black in the darkness.

"You can come closer, Hadrian. No need to be afraid."

"Shouldn't I be?" He made his voice sound as innocent as possible.

"Should you be?"

He pushed off the door, taking care to put one foot in front of the other as he stepped closer to the man. "I'm not certain I'm safe with you, _Tom._ " He could hear each footstep as it hit the ground. "Or would you rather I call you Voldemort?" He let his fingers run over a desk. "I'm confused as to what secrets we're supposed to be keeping."

Instead of walking toward the other, he began wading through the desks.

Tom hummed. "So, you've figured it out."

Hadrian gripped the chain of the locket around his neck and ran it through his fingers before coming to a stop at the locket's face. 

"Have you heard of Dylan Thomas?" Riddle asked. Hadrian shook his head. "He's a Muggle poet. He wrote a poem in the 1940s." His eyes danced. "'Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'" He quoted. "Is that what you're doing? Raging against the dying of the light? You won't go gentle into that good night?" He cocked his head and smirked.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" He rose and began maneuvering toward him. His body language mirrored his own previous movements, slinking through the classroom like a cat on the hunt. "You think you know the grand scheme of Lord Voldemort." Voldemort neared and he began retreating. "You think you have it all figured out, don't you, _Harry?_ " He swallowed thickly. "You think that that horcrux around your neck is the only thing that lets me keep an eye on you? You think I didn't know that poor, loving James Potter helped his son escape the mask of Hadrian Krínos? You think I didn't know that you've been fighting with dark magic, with yourself, all summer?" Hadrian's back collided with the edge of the windowsill. "You think I didn't know," His hand slammed into the wall next to Hadrian's head, emphasizing his words. "That you and another piece of my soul had sex? You think I didn't know that you dream about me? Dirty dreams that make you wake up angry and in the need for cold showers?" Riddle pressed forward, their bodies touching.

He swallowed again and Riddle watched the movement. 

"You have never been out of my reach, Harry Potter." His free hand gripped his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "From the moment that silly little prophecy found its way to me, I knew. I knew what you could do, who you could become. I knew you could spell my downfall. But you could also be my greatest weapon. You are _mine._ " He emphasized every word. "When James ran, I knew where you were. When you had nightmares, I knew what you dreamt of. When you built the persona of Hadrian Krínos, I knew who you were hoping to use the mask against. I know everything. I have weaseled my way into your life, into your heart, Harry. You gave me your body, but I took something long before that." His hand tightened on Hadrian's chin. " _You_ are a horcrux, Harry. _My horcrux._ " He leaned closer until their lips were almost touching. "I. Own. You."


	14. Decisions, Decisions

"I. Own. You."

Hadrian woke with a start, the words still echoing in his mind. They followed him into his dreams and then into the waking world once again. He breathed heavily, his heart thundered in his chest. His anxiety radiated from his head to his toes. Each second he wanted something different. He wanted to confront Voldemort once again, demand the other tell him more or give him proof. He wanted to write to James and ask him if he knew. He wanted to tear apart Hogwarts with his bare hands and bury Tom, Voldemort, in its depths. He wanted to give in and let the man use him as he wished. It was infuriating. He sat up in his bed, leaning against the headboard and running his hands over his face. The others were still asleep around him leaving him essentially alone with his thoughts. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, feeling something other than the pure panic and anger that ran through him. 

What was he supposed to do now? Voldemort had marked him from the time he was year old. He couldn't run, there was nowhere the other wouldn't have found him. He had no idea how many horcruxes there were, killing him would be nearly impossible. And to what end? Hadrian, Harry, would have to die for Voldemort to die too. It was a perfect plan, he had to give him that. Years upon years of self-preservation had been ingrained in Hadrian's mind to the point he couldn't imagine dying. He had fought for so long to stay alive, would he risk everything to take Tom with him? Would it even work? He let out a sigh that echoed in the silent room. 

It was early in the morning, early enough that he could have gone back to sleep, but there was no way sleep could reclaim him now. He pulled the covers off of himself and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He needed to think. He wouldn't have to see Tom until Tuesday for Defense. That gave him three days to regain his focus, to come up with a plan. To come up with anything really rather than his anxiety-ridden brain which gave him ten thousand possibilities at once, none of which were reasonable. He pulled off his nightclothes and slipped into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He then grabbed his Invisibility cloak and pulled it around himself. A walk would do him some good. The night air would help wash away his thoughts. He grabbed the Lamb's Wart as an afterthought before he slipped from the room. The Slytherin common room was empty though a fire still crackled in the fireplace. He took a breath and stepped out into the quiet corridor. He knew that there might be professors out, checking the halls for wandering students, but as the night wore on the chances were slimmer. Even professors had to teach. He was careful to step quietly, not letting his footsteps echo off of stone walls. He found his way out of the school mostly by memory. 

He waited until he was further away from the castle before he finally took in a breath. He wandered across the grounds, hearing noise after noise echo from the forest. That wasn't where he was headed, though. Instead, he moved toward the Black Lake. The lake lived up to its name as it looked black at night, with the faint light of the crescent moon shimmering across the surface. Hadrian dropped into the grass next to the lake. He remembered sometimes seeing the giant squid swim by the windows in the Slytherin common room. It was a massive, beautiful beast. He was certain it could have easily plucked him from the grass if it knew he was there. But the surface of the lake didn't move. It looked like glass, still and quiet. The exact opposite of his mind. 

He decided against taking off the cloak in case a professor happened to look out the window and instead pushed it away from his face slightly so he could light the Lamb's Wart. He sat in the silence, focusing on the burn that moved down his throat and into his lungs. The longer he sat, the more noises he began to hear as if the world was coming alive around him. Whoops and hollers echoed from the forest and there was a howl here and there. He heard the crashing of hooves over leaves and branches. Crickets chirped in the grass around him, small lights flashed in between the trees. It was oddly peaceful.

He looked up at the night sky, picking out constellations he remembered from Astronomy and watching small shapes fly in front of the moon. 

"Nice night, isn't it?" A voice asked. He nearly jumped from his skin. He didn't hear anyone approach, didn't hear footsteps echo over the grass. 

It wasn't a voice he recognized and its owner wasn't familiar at all. The man sat next to him on the grass. His hair looked nearly black in the night, and he wore jeans and a T-shirt which was stretched over his broad chest. He crossed his legs and leaned back on his hands, looking up at the stars.

"You don't need that. Not now. I know you're there."

Hadrian pulled the cloak down, looking at the other. The man rolled his head toward him, looking at him for a second before he faced the stars once again.

"What are you doing wandering around the grounds at night?"

"I'm not wandering." He responded, avoiding the question.

"No, you aren't." The man agreed. 

"Who are you?" He asked. 

"No one you need to worry about." The man answered and before Hadrian could respond, he continued. "But you never answered. Why are you out and about?"

He let out a sigh, turning to look at the sky once again. "I found out something I didn't want to know. And now I don't know what to do about it."

The man hummed. "I understand. I once found out something I didn't want to know."

"Do you regret it?"

"Yes," The other answered. "What are you going to do about what you learned?"

"I don't know." He said honestly. "I don't know if there's anything I can do."

"So you're asking the stars for help." It wasn't a question.

"I haven't gotten an answer."

"Maybe they did answer, just not in the way you expect." He saw the other grin out of the corner of his eye.

"What would you do if you learned something that changed your whole outlook on life, on people you cared about?"

"Last time, I lost someone I cared about because of it. I choose and I lost."

"What if my choice is between two people I care about, and if I choose, I'll lose one."

The other turned to study him. "You can only choose yourself. And whatever comes after that is for you."

"I don't even know who I am."

The man laughed. "That's true for most of us I think. We all try to find ourselves, that's what life is." He stood and brushed himself off. "I'm sure you'll figure it out." Hadrian looked up to see the other grin. "Good luck, Hadrian."

He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. The man moved around him and he heard a splash, but when he looked the other was gone. The lake rippled slightly and then stood still once again. He sighed.

Choose himself. But who was he? Hadrian? Harry? Were they one and the same? Choosing Hadrian meant he could lose James. Choosing Harry meant he could lose Tom. Choosing Tom meant embracing the man who killed his mother. Choosing James meant shunning the man who he felt understood him most.

_I have weaseled my way into your life, into your heart, Harry. You gave me your body, but I took something long before that._

_I own you._

He huffed into the night. Voldemort, Tom, James, Harry, Hadrian. Why couldn't he just go to class and graduate like everyone else? Why did one stupid prophecy have to rule his life? The prophecy stated that only he could defeat the Dark Lord. But Voldemort had twisted it making it so that to bring about his defeat, he could have to die as well. Choose himself. If he chose himself, Tom, Voldemort, would live. Would things really be any different if he chose himself? Voldemort already won, what would change? People already died, they couldn't be brought back. What would happen with Voldemort gone? The Order of the Phoenix was gone, there was no one left to put things back the way they were. Then there were the Death Eaters to think about. With Voldemort gone, there would be a power struggle. He dropped his head into his hands. Nothing about this night helped him. Not the conversation with a stranger, not the night air.

He pulled his cloak back over him and ventured back toward the castle. He was just tired enough that he fell asleep again once his head hit the pillow.

Draco practically dragged him to breakfast the next morning. It was thankfully Riddle free. He wasn't certain he could handle Tom yet, though he was leaning very much toward giving in. He ate his food slowly, not really tasting it but mostly because there wasn't much more that he could do at the moment. They went back to the dorm, watching the first years scatter around the school to try and find their classes before they started. It was almost entertaining if it weren't for everything else he had to deal with. He claimed a couch in the Slytherin dormitory and Draco claimed the one across from him. Neither spoke, they didn't need to. Draco had seen how rattled he was when he returned the night before and he knew Hadrian would speak when he was ready. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, listening to the idle chatter and the footsteps of people moving in and out. 

Next to him was a History of Magic textbook. Maybe something boring would help him. Maybe he could force his mind to calm down. He picked up the book, not caring who it belonged to, and began thumbing through the pages. It wasn't until he came across one page in particular, that he suddenly froze. He saw the same man from his early morning stroll only with longer hair and a bright red robe. He threw the book and covered his face with his arm. He was tired of everything. He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until Draco woke him with an apple in his face saying his missed dinner.

It was then that he decided to take a chance.

"Come with me," He said to Draco as he grabbed the apple and took a bite. Draco followed, not saying anything. They walked through the school until the crowds began to thin and he found a place where they were alone. "You said there was something I hadn't told you." Hadrian began. "You were right." He paused. "Did you mean what you said when you said you that you were here no matter what?"

"Yes." The other answered. Draco looked him over with those grey eyes of his.

"I haven't told you the truth about myself, about who I am." He took in a deep breath, his gaze falling to the floor. "My name, my real name, is Harry Potter."

Silence fell between them and he suddenly found himself looking up, curious about the other's reaction. When their eyes finally met, Draco answered.

"I know."


	15. The Games

"I. Own. You."

Hadrian's eyes were wide with terror, with just a hint of excitement in their depths. He couldn't hold himself back anymore and he wasn't one to deny himself what he wanted. Voldemort pressed forward, closing what little distance was between them, their lips crashing together. He could feel the emotions running through the other's body as fought himself under the kiss. His arms moved upward, pushing him away.

"I hate you," Hadrian breathed. 

"No, you don't."

Their lips crashed together again, this time Hadrian initiated the kiss. Their bodies pressed together, Hadrian's arms wrapping around him. He pressed the other against himself, their kiss growing more heated. Hadrian pushed against him and they moved, shuffling awkwardly until his legs hit on of the many desks in the room. The other pushed him back further, forcing him onto the desk. He sat, their lips still locked together. Hadrian straddled him, his hands cupping his face. He grabbed the younger man's hips, pressing them closer together. Hadrian ground against him, his hands moving from his face to his shoulders to his back. He pulled off Hadrian's robe, letting it fall to the floor with a satisfying thump. The other pawed at his shirt, untucking it from his pants. He had purposely worn an outfit that would accentuate his body, knowing eventually he would draw Hadrian back. The other's hands ran up the bare skin of his back, under his shirt before letting it drop again and running a hand through his curls. 

He rubbed his thumbs against Hadrian's hips, enjoying the feel of the other so close. Enjoying the war within his body as he fought the darkest parts of himself, the parts Voldemort had created. Enjoying the way every kiss was hungry and yet hesitant. He could feel the darkness under his fingertips, just waiting to be released. Hadrian had fought himself all summer, trying to force the darkness down and away, trying to become Harry Potter once again. But the darkness was there and it would fester. It was a disease that buried into the mind, the heart, and it would never let go. The only way for the darkness to leave, was for Hadrian to die. But he had gone to great lengths to ensure Hadrian had ingrained self-preservation. He would want to live. And living meant Voldemort would live. 

He moved to wrap his arms around the other, but Hadrian suddenly broke from the kiss, pushing himself off Voldemort and back into the window. His back was pressed against the glass, his chest heaving. He leaned back on his hands, studying the other. He couldn't help but think it was a good look for him. His clothes were rumpled, his tie was crooked, his hair had somehow managed to become wilder, and his eyes were lit brilliantly. The moonlight through the window didn't touch them, but that didn't stop the emerald from shining in the night, his internal war shining through with the darkness waiting. 

"No," Hadrian said between breaths. "No. I can't do this."

"You can't run, you can't hide. All you're doing is lying to yourself about what you want. About what you are."

"I am nothing like you," Hadrian growled.

"Yes, you are." He grinned, baring his teeth. "You are exactly like me. And you know it. You hate it, but you know it. Deep down, you are me. You are exactly what I have made you into. You fight it, a feeble attempt to stay in the light. But you are not light. You are not Harry. You are Hadrian. You are 'of the dark.'"

Hadrian snarled, grabbing his robe and pushing past him, leaving the room. It didn't matter how far he went, where he decided to go, Voldemort would always know. He wasn't lying. He owned him.

* * *

Monday was by far the single most interesting day in the last sixteen years. The only day that could potentially top it was the day Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. Voldemort sat in his chair at the professors' table, keeping his mask of professionalism and indifference. But he wasn't indifferent. In fact, he was quite excited to see what would happen after the announcement before the evening meal. He had been quite entertained the last few days, feeling Hadrian's war. He knew of Hadrian's little midnight stroll and the man he encountered while outside. It was such a shame Hadrian didn't know the rest of that story. Voldemort might tell him one day, but it didn't matter now. Hadrian was still struggling within himself, the light and dark warring. And just like everything else, he had a plan to end that war. He would push Hadrian the rest of the way. Harry Potter would die, and Hadrian would rise. 

He hated his Muggle father, hated him with a passion. But he couldn't help but think Riddle would be a better last name than Krínos.

Excitement ran through his veins as he waited.

The students sat at their tables. Seventh years, along with Hadrian himself, were toward the back of the room, but that didn't hide him from Voldemort. The first years, wide-eyed and excited were in front, waiting for the headmaster to take his place, front and center. He had once thought about taking on the role of Headmaster himself. But it was a distant role that kept students at arm's length. That wouldn't do for what he wanted. His influence would need to direct, his interactions with them were personal. A professor could accomplish this. It was more than beneficial to sway some of the children of the Order to his cause, and even more beneficial in persuading Hadrian to his side.

Barty took his place in front of them, waving his hands for them to quiet down. It was unusual for the professors to join the students except during feasts. But there was an important announcement to make tonight, and it would require the entire school's attention. He tapped his fingers on the table as Barty straightened him. The whole school was focused on him, except for Hadrian who watched Voldemort. Barty smiled at the students, at ease with the attention on him.

"Hello, students." He greeted. "I know it's unusual for us to gather like this so quickly once again," He waved his hands to gesture to the students. "But I have an important announcement." He rolled his shoulders. "By now you all should be settled in. First years, you should be learning where your classes are and the rules of the school. The rest of you should be settling back into your routine, ready to have a great year." He smiled. "But this year there will be something very special. This year, we have decided to expand our inter-house competition." The students were all quite, captivated by what Barty told them. "As you know, there are two competitions between the house every year." He gestured to the hourglasses behind the professors' table, filled with gems colored for each of the houses. "There are the house points and the house with the most wins the house cup. And there is our Quidditch competition. The team with the most points wins the Quidditch house cup and helps boost their house in the larger inter-house competition. But this year, we are adding another element." He could feel the excitement building from the students. "We will have a series of," He paused for a second. "Games. The house with the most points in the individual games will be our winner. All points will add to the house competition for the house cup." Before the students could begin whispering amongst themselves, he continued. "However, these games will not be easy. They will be taxing, testing every form of magic we teach here at Hogwarts. They will be dangerous. As a result, only those that are the age of 17 or who will turn 17 by October are eligible to participate. One student will be chosen to represent their respective houses. Choose your champion wisely students. One will be nominated for every house."

His eyes found Hadrian's, who was staring at him with anger. He had hinted to Hadrian the previous year that he had a plan in motion and now Hadrian was seeing the plan unfold. And Hadrian was likely the student who would be chosen from Slytherin house. In fact, Voldemort could guarantee Hadrian would be the Slytherin champion. 

He watched the realization dawn in Hadrian's eyes as he looked toward Draco. The Malfoy heir had been Hadrian's friend and confidant since he entered Hogwarts. The pair were nearly inseparable, partially because Draco had known all along that Hadrian was Harry Potter. And now Draco would continue to support Hadrian as he played Voldemort's newest game. 

He closed his eyes, feeling through the connection to Hadrian.

_"Did you know?" He asked Draco._

_"No," Draco answered. "But you and I both know who will be the Slytherin champion."_ _Hadrian sighed. "You'll have to win. No one will except any less."_

_"I know."_

He opened his eyes once more, meeting Hadrian's eyes. 

Good boy.

* * *

Hadrian stood outside Tom's office, debating with himself if he should go inside. The announcement at dinner had been a surprise and he knew exactly what would be expected of him. He didn't know why he went to Tom after hearing it, but for some reason, he felt compelled to go. He tried to talk himself out of it, telling himself that going to Tom was a bad idea. The man was Voldemort after all and had likely been planning this for years. What the goal was, he wasn't quite certain, but he could guess. He managed to pull himself away from the door, stepping backward to return to the common room but found himself bumping into someone else. He couldn't run away now.

Tom moved around him and opened the door to the classroom, leaving it open for Hadrian to follow. He sighed and entered the room behind him, closing the door. 

"Is there something I can do for you, Hadrian?" Tom wasn't facing him and instead looking at the papers on his desk. But Hadrian knew better. His attention was completely on him even if he didn't look at him. 

"I'm going to have to compete, aren't I?"

"I guess that's up to you," Tom answered nonchalantly.

"You won't give me a choice."

He saw Tom's lips quirk. The other turned to face him. "I don't know why you continue trying to fight. You know what you want."

Hadrian ignored him. "When does this competition start?"

Tom grinned wickedly. "Why, October 31st of course. Halloween."

Hadrian felt as though he'd been struck by lightning. 


	16. The Champions

August and September crawled by. October was even worse. A day felt like a week and a week felt like a year. The longer everything took, the worse Hadrian's temper began to flare. It was already terrible enough after that first weekend, the realizations that came crashing down on him. Everything he thought was a lie. He couldn't help but think he should have run when James suggested it, but ultimately it would be a useless venture. Voldemort would always find him, even across the world. He had known who Hadrian was the moment he stepped foot in Hogwarts, he had planned on James sending him even under a false name. The children of the Death Eaters knew who he was too. The students, the professors, they all knew. With one exception, Snape. Snape had known who Hadrian was, mostly because he looked so much like his father, but he hadn't known that Hadrian's secret was in fact not a secret at all. And that was even more infuriating. Severus Snape was supposedly in Voldemort's inner circle and yet the man knew nothing of Voldemort's plan. All these years Hadrian, James, and even Snape had thought he was in danger when he could have just walked into the Great Hall on his first day all those years ago as Harry Potter and no one would have batted an eye, except for maybe the children of the Order, what few were left. 

Hadrian's temper began to overwhelm him the longer everything went on. His temper, and some not so subtle prompting by the locket, pushed him to return to lessons with Tom. Consciously, he knew it was a terrible idea to put himself in the same room with Voldemort. But he also he that his temper flared more due to the dark magic coursing through his veins and there was only one place he could practice dark magic with little risk to others; Tom's classroom. The more dark magic he used, however, the more it threatened to push him over the edge. His position was already precarious but he only made it worse by continuing to use the thing that pushed him to the edge to begin with. And he only made matters worse by finding himself not only returning to Tom's classroom but his bed as well. Some part of him thought it was incredibly narcissistic of Voldemort, Hadrian was after all his horcrux. But everything began to blur. Hadrian and Harry. Tom and Voldemort. 

In the second week of October, nominations were submitted to the heads of their respective houses for their champions. Nominations would be tallied on October 30th with the champions announced the following day, October 31st, at dinner. Hadrian didn't bother with submitting a nomination. It was already guaranteed who the Slytherin champion would be. But it did bring something else into a rather harsh perspective for him. He had been so preoccupied with everything Voldemort, that he had forgotten there were students in houses outside Slytherin. Some part of him knew that there were other students and other houses, he was the Slytherin seeker and Quidditch captain, but it hadn't fully entered his consciousness. With the competition upped between the houses, however, he was more aware. 

During his classes, except for Defense, he found himself looking at the other students, wondering who would be his competition. The attendance at Hogwarts had grown while he was there, with students coming from other countries to learn at the school. Most of the students in his year were children of Death Eaters or people who had been neutral during the Wizarding War. The younger ones came from everywhere. The smallest population were the children of the Order. There weren't many left in Hogwarts. The Weasleys hadn't been seen or heard from since the war with none of their children attending Hogwarts. Neville Longbottom, whose parents were killed during the war, attended. Susan Bones, whose uncle had also been a member of the Order of Phoenix and died during the war, was another attendee. There were rumors that Cedric Diggory's father was a supporter of the Order, but Cedric had already attended and graduated Hogwarts. There weren't many Muggleborn students, but they were there. None of them were ever in Slytherin though. Hadrian's biggest surprise upon entering Hogwarts was finding that Muggleborns were still allowed. He later learned that it wasn't exactly paradise for the Muggleborns. They had to choose between their families and learning at Hogwarts. A few chose Hogwarts. 

During Defense, however, it was nearly impossible for him to tear his attention away from Tom. The man had always commanded any room he was in, even when he wasn't the center of attention, but with everything Hadrian now knew, it was almost impossible for him to look away. He could see how so many people had fallen to Voldemort's feet. He was always in control and he had such control over Hadrian as well. It was terrifying really, but the smallest bit exciting. 

And that was why Hadrian still warred with himself. There was nothing to be lost by giving in to Voldemort. Nothing would change. And there was nothing to be gained by continuing to resist. The Order was all but gone, with only a few members like Sirius, Remus, and James still living. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Alastor Moody had all been killed at the end of the war. Other Order members were also killed and Order sympathizers like Sirius's cousin Andromeda and her husband weren't heard from for years. Sirius thought they might have escaped to another country, but part of Hadrian thought they might be dead. The Black family was known for their blood purity and there was still a bounty on Sirius for his role in the war. It was unlikely Andromeda lived, especially since she married a Muggle.

Despite his war, he kept returning to Tom. He hated himself for it, but every other day he was in the Defense classroom. 

This day was no different. It was October 30th, the day before the champions were announced. It was grueling to reach that point, and once he was finally there, the day seemed to fly by. Before he knew it, it was time for his lesson. He left Draco and the others in the common room, venturing through the halls until he reached the classroom. Before he could enter, however, he heard arguing through the door. He sucked in a breath and stood still, listening to the muffled words on the other side.

"...knew the whole time."

"Of course, I knew."

"Why wasn't I informed?"

"It was a need to know, Severus. And you didn't need to know."

"But Lily."

"Yes, I know of your fondness for Lily Potter which is why you tried your best to protect her son. But I am telling you now." There was a warning in the words.

"Of course, my Lord." Severus's voice became more formal. "My apologies."

He could hear footsteps and he shifted his position, raising his hand as though he were about to knock when the door swung open. Severus looked down at him, emotion thick in his eyes before he swept past Hadrian. His eyes followed the man as his robes billowed until he was out of sight. He made certain his face was a mask of mild curiosity as he turned to Tom who smirked.

"I know you were standing there for longer than a couple of seconds, Hadrian."

Hadrian shrugged and entered the room, shutting the door behind him with a click.

A few hours later, Hadrian was lying in Tom's bed, their legs tangled together while Tom carded a hand through his hair. The times the turmoil within him was calm was after the lessons with Tom but it was the calmest when he found himself in Tom's bed. It was the worst situation possible, but he tried to enjoy the reprieve before he began chiding himself once again. Neither of them seemed to be eager to talk, instead, they lied together, bodies pressed close. He wasn't likely returning to the Slytherin dorm that night. Absentmindedly, he began tracing patterns on the other's abdomen. The other sucked in a breath but didn't say anything and didn't move to stop him. Sleep began to tug at his mind. It was an oddly calm, oddly domestic scenario he found himself in. Tom continued carding his hand through his hair as his eyelids fluttered closed. 

He didn't know how long he had been asleep, or even if he had been asleep at all when he heard someone speak. He was still lying on Tom's shoulder, his hand pressed against the other's abdomen. He was careful with his breathing, controlling it so the other would think he was asleep. Tom's hand was still petting his hair, but he was speaking though he didn't think it was something he was meant to hear.

"...similarities between you and me." The other's voice was soft. "I never knew my father. Not really. Like you never knew your mother. I killed him, as I killed her. My father was a Muggle. Another thing you and I have in common. Blood status. He was a hateful man. I killed him in his dining room. Along with his parents." His other hand moved up Hadrian's arm, running his fingers over his skin and he was quiet for a moment. "You must have wondered if any of this is real." The other shifted slightly, not enough to jar him, but enough to press his lips against Hadrian's hair. "It is." He whispered.

Hadrian didn't move. He barely breathed. It was a trick. It was another manipulation. It had to be. But the other didn't speak anymore and eventually, he heard his breathing change, sleep overcoming him. He shook himself mentally. He had only come here to calm the storm within him. And now it was raging once again. If Tom knew he was awake, it was a manipulation. But he didn't seem to notice. He was speaking before Hadrian even woke, and it was as though he caught the tail end of a one-sided conversation. His heart was in his throat but he decided to push his turmoil aside and let sleep claim him once again. 

He woke the next morning to Tom shifting under him. He rolled off the other, groaning slightly and burying himself under the blankets and pillows. There was a soft chuckle as the bed shifted with his rise. He shifted slightly, blinking into the morning sun as he watched Tom move around his room. He didn't bother dressing but instead moved around the room doing various tasks. As he returned from the bathroom to find Hadrian staring at him. 

"Like what you see?"

"I'm not complaining."

Tom smirked and reached for the blanket, pulling it off him. The morning air was cool, a shock to his body. The other pulled the pillows off next, the morning sun in his eyes. 

"I'm not complaining either."

Tom's body covered him, pressing his lips to Hadrian's. His hand automatically moved to the other's hair, pressing them closer together. Tom wrapped an arm around him until they were pressed against each other.

"I can't promise to let you go if this continues."

The words snapped Hadrian's mind back into reality. He had been lost in the haze of the morning that he had forgotten everything else outside of Tom's room. He sighed, pushing the other away. Tom rolled off him easily, pillowing an arm under his head as he watched Hadrian stand and begin gathering his clothes. He was calm outwardly, but inside his mind was a mess. He remembered the words from the night before. He remembered that today he would be chosen to compete for Slytherin house. And he remembered that today, sixteen years ago, was the day the man he had slept with killed his mother. He pulled on his clothes, mentally chiding himself for making the same mistakes over and over again. Tom wasn't content to let him leave without furthering his self-destruction, however. As Hadrian made to leave, Tom blocked his path with his body. He still hadn't dressed but Hadrian ignored his body for his eyes, seeing a mischievous look in their depths.

"Good luck today, Hadrian." The other moved quickly, grabbing his chin and pressing their lips together again. "I'm rooting for you." He whispered as he pulled away. 

Hadrian pushed past him, hearing a laugh follow him through the classroom. 

It was a terrifyingly long day. He had thought the days leading up to this were long, but he had no idea. Every second felt like a year. Every word uttered from a professor's mouth was in slow motion, every action taking forever to complete. By midday, he had gone mad. Draco was at his side the whole day, but everyone else was giving him a wide berth, as though he might lash out, which was honestly a possibility. He was vibrating out of his skin at every action. And Defense was even worse. Tom's eyes never left him, even when he was addressing another student. Something in the room caught fire, and it was the only time the other looked away. Hadrian would later think it was his magic that set the fire, any excuse to force Tom to look elsewhere. 

By dinner, he was certain he would set the Great Hall on fire. That was until Barty rose from his chair and walked around the table, silencing the hall immediately.

It was time for the choosing of the champions. 

There were four pieces of paper in his hand, each one decorated with the emblems of the four houses. His eyes scanned the hall, jumping from student to student. Everyone sat on the edge of their seats. He wasn't certain anyone was breathing. Everyone was staring at the four papers. Barty smiled, his eyes filled with entertainment. 

"Good evening, students." No one responded. "I'll get right to it, shall I?"

He dropped the papers only for them to hover in midair. The papers shimmered, the emblems vanishing before they began to shuffled. Hadrian could hear the swooshing of the papers as they moved through the air. Eventually, they stopped all four in a line in front of the headmaster. He opened his hand and one floated forward, dropping into his palm. He turned the envelope over and Hadrian could see the house emblem appear once again. Barty unfolded it, holding it up just enough that everyone could see which house's champion was called first.

"The champion for Hufflepuff is," He paused a wicked grin on his face. "Justin Finch-Fletchley!"

Hadrian couldn't repress his surprise as the Hufflepuff table cheered. Justin was famous within the school for being one of the few Muggleborn students. Why he chose to leave his family and come to Hogwarts no one ever knew, he was always very reserved when it came to his family. But now he was openly delighted, standing for a second to wave to the Hufflepuff table before he was pulled down by a friend. He was always a friendly person and the entirety of Hufflepuff seemed incredibly happy to have him as their champion. The applause died down eventually and Barty held his hand up once again, another paper floating to his palm.

"The champion for Ravenclaw is," He paused again. "Cho Chang!"

He wasn't surprised at this. Cho was the Ravenclaw seeker and they had played against each other numerous times. She was quite skilled both on and off the pitch. In another lifetime, he might have even sought her out. She was incredibly beautiful and intelligent. But his mind was always occupied with another. 

Again, as the applause died, Barty held out his hand and the second to last paper floated into his palm.

"The champion for Slytherin is," He paused but the suspense was wasted on Hadrian. "Hadrian Krínos!"

Hadrian gave a cordial nod as the Slytherin table applauded. His eyes jumped over the table seeing that most had knowing and unsurprised looks before they found Tom at the professors' table. The other raised his glass in a small toast before offering a wink. 

The applauded died once more.

"The champion for Gryffindor is," This time the suspense wasn't wasted on Hadrian. While the all houses competed against each other, the true rivalry was between Gryffindor and Slytherin. It didn't matter where it was, on the pitch or in a classroom, the two houses were rivals even if it was just to see who could get their hand up first to answer a question. The Slytherin team had dominated the Quidditch pitch for the last three years and they hadn't once lost a game since Hadrian became captain. That only made the rivalry between the two houses worse. He could feel everyone around him tense, waiting to see who Hadrian's biggest competition would be. There would be no quarter given with Slytherin house as Hadrian's competition would become the house's competition as they would all work to bring down the Gryffindor champion. A heartbeat passed and then two. 

"Neville Longbottom!"


	17. The First Game

_"I've told you about the prophecy," James said, running his hand through his hair making the wildness rival Harry's. "But there is more that I haven't told you yet." He let out a sigh and clasped his hands together, hoping that it would quell his nervous energy. "When we first heard the prophecy, we knew it could refer to not one, but two people. Two children." Harry blinked and James continued. "The day before you were born, another Order member gave birth to a son." Even clasped, his hands continued to move. "After Voldemort attacked us that night, I assumed that he chose you to be a part of the prophecy. I assumed it was because, between you and the other boy, he had more in common with you." James shrugged. "The other boy is a pureblood. But Voldemort is not a pureblood. Much like you, Voldemort is a half-blood. His mother was a witch but his father was a Muggle. I think he chose you for that reason."_

_"Who was the other boy?"_

_"Neville Longbottom."_

Hadrian tapped his quill on the desk, staring out the window at the Black Lake. He had to send a letter to his father. He had to tell him what was happening. But every time he sat down to write it, the words would rush from his mind as though they were being chased. He could see the squid swimming in the distance but beyond that, the water wasn't disturbed. Unlike the turmoil in his mind. He hadn't paid much attention to Neville Longbottom since their first year. Oh, he would see him here or there, but Hadrian was otherwise occupied. Neville had grown tremendously since their first year, becoming bolder and braver, and taller, since they began schooling. It was Neville who often defended the first years against Crabbe and Goyle when Hadrian wasn't there to pull them away by their ears. He had never had any problems with Neville. But his choosing had been completely on purpose. 

He sighed, pushing the quill and parchment away from him and instead, resting his head on his hand to stare out the window. The squid moved through the water, powerful tentacles propelling it forward. It swam toward the window, hovering for a second, one massive eye staring inside before it moved away and back into the depths of the lake.

"I see you made friends with the Giant Squid," Draco said, flopping rather unceremoniously onto Hadrian's lap. "I suppose I'm useless now."

Hadrian let his hand fall and Draco dropped his head onto his arm. "Where else would I find someone to warm my lap?"

"Aww." Draco feigned swooning. "The great Hadrian Krínos likes little old me in his lap." He fanned himself. "But alas, our love affair is so scandalous!"

Hadrian was tempted to stand to push Draco from his lap, but instead, he let the other stay, grinning at him. Finally, Draco looked away and toward the abandoned letter. His demeanor changed, though he stayed in his spot on Hadrian's lap.

"Your father?" Hadrian nodded. "They're letting the parents come for the last competition," Draco said slowly. "Do you think he'll come?"

"I don't see why he couldn't," Hadrian sighed. "Everything we thought was a lie." Draco glanced at him guiltily. "It's fine," Hadrian said, trying to assuage his friend's guilt. "I just-" He paused and shrugged. "It would have been nice to be me, without the mask. If I had just walked in that first day as Harry Potter instead of Hadrian Krínos then-" He dropped his head. "But I don't even know who Harry Potter is anymore."

"I don't know about Harry Potter," Draco said, shifting in his lap. "But I do know Hadrian Krínos."

"And what do you know?" He looked back out the window.

"I know that Hadrian is stubborn, tenacious, cunning, intelligent, powerful. But I also know that he's my best friend. And that he has a competition to get ready for."

Hadrian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What's the first task?"

Draco grinned and produced an envelope. "It was on your bed."

He could see his name written neatly on the cover as he flipped it over, finding the Slytherin emblem on the back. The locket around his neck twitched just slightly. He opened it, discarding the envelope in favor of the parchment inside. It was rather massive for not having much written on it. He flipped it over, looking for more on the page, but there was nothing.

"What's it say?" Daphne asked, coming to sit in the chair across from him. Pansy sat next to her with Crabbe and Goyle on her other side. 

He cleared his throat. "Congratulations Hadrian Krínos. You have been chosen to represent your house in the upcoming inter-house games. Before you are four games which will test a variety of the abilities taught here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As you progress through each game, the next will appear on this parchment. Do not lose it, as you will not be given another." As Hadrian read, another set of sentences appeared below. "For your first game, you will put your courage to the test. Use whatever you deem necessary for when you journey into the arena, you journey alone fighting fire made flesh or poison made bone."

Draco furrowed his brow and Hadrian dropped the parchment on the desk in front of him. 

"Creature?" Draco asked after a moment.

Hadrian nodded. 

"'Fire made flesh or poison made bone.'" Draco repeated. "That could be anything. Dragon, manticore-"

"Runespoor, snallygaster-" Daphne joined in.

"Nundu, chimera, horned serpent-" Pansy continued.

"Acromantula." Draco huffed. "Anything."

"It's not anything." Hadrian had been listening while they ran through the textbook on magical creatures, but he knew what he would be facing. He knew it from the moment he read "poison made bone." The locket twitched slightly as Hadrian pulled it from his shirt. He grasped it, looking at the face. The serpentine "S" stared at him from the jeweled face, as if the locket itself were watching him. It probably was, given Hadrian's previous experiences with the locket and the man who's soul was within it. He let it fall with a thump against his chest. "I know what it is."

* * *

Voldemort's lips twitched as he felt Hadrian near the door. Between the locket and the horcrux within Hadrian himself, it was impossible for him not to know where the other was. But he was pleased to see that Hadrian had returned sooner than he expected. Hadrian had ignored him after the choosing of champions, sleeping in his own bed rather than Voldemort's. He assumed it was meant to be some form of punishment, but instead he was rather entertained. It was petulant, almost, for Hadrian to deny Voldemort that which was already his. He knew it was only a matter of time before Hadrian came back. And there he was, opening the door to Voldemort's classroom. 

He remembered the first time he saw the boy after all those years spent feeling him from a distance. Hadrian wasn't disguised. He had seen James Potter briefly that night and again in the minds of others, and Harry Potter was the spitting image of his dear father. He had seemed so worried, tense for a boy of eleven. He was careful about everything, watching everything with his bright, emerald eyes. Hadrian had been just as tense, as cunningly reserved in their first defense lesson. He could feel the power radiating from the boy even then. And it had only become stronger. More than that, Hadrian's power had become darker, wilder, and chaotic. More intoxicating. He knew he affected the boy with sheer presence alone. He had yet to betray that the other had an equal effect on him. 

Hadrian shut the door behind him with a loud thud. Voldemort didn't bother to look up, instead pretending to be fascinated with the first year's assignments in front of him. Hadrian walked closer, making his steps audible in the dark classroom. He continued until he was on the other side of his desk, leaning over it. Voldemort could see the locket dangling from his neck and he felt his lips twitch once more.

"You're not going to make me kill it, are you?" Hadrian asked.

"I'm certain I don't know what you're talking about, Hadrian." He purred.

"I don't want to kill it." He stayed silent for a moment, marking the page in front of him before setting his quill aside and folding his hands. He looked up to find Hadrian's eyes boring into his, demanding and unyielding. "Not even you would kill something that beautiful."

"No. I don't want you to kill it." Hadrian's intense stare didn't let up. "You will need to find your way past it, retrieve something, and bring it back. Preferably without dying but death is little more than an inconvenience." He waved his hand flippantly. 

"You subvert death by tearing apart your soul but my death is little more than an inconvenience." Hadrian's voice was thick with sarcasm. 

"You think I don't value your life."

"Why would you? If I weren't your horcrux you would have killed me by now."

"How little you think I value you." He leaned back in his chair. "If I did not value you, I would have killed you already, horcrux or not. But I have great plans for you. We've only just started."

Hadrian walked around the desk and leaned next to him. "What do you want from me?" Voldemort smiled. "You want me to give myself to you." Hadrian looked away for a moment, before standing from the desk and pressing against him in a kiss. Hadrian maneuvered himself, straddling him in the chair. He grabbed the other's hips, holding him in place.

"This isn't willing," He said quietly when they broke apart. "This is coercion." He gripped Hadrian's chin. "When I am done, you will come willingly." He let his hand drop. "But for now, I will take this."

Their lips met again as Hadrian ground against him, pressing their bodies together. It wasn't exactly a chaste movement, but it wasn't fully carnal either. It was somewhere in between and that made it far more interesting.

"You don't care about the inter-house games," Hadrian said between kisses before he moved from his lips to his neck, burying his teeth into soft flesh. "There's only one game you care about."

"And which game is that, Hadrian?" He purred again. 

Hadrian pulled back, taking his turn to grasp the other's chin. What an amazing thing he created. Here was Hadrian above him, molded perfectly into the thing he had wanted. He could feel the darkness under those fingertips. He could feel the power humming in his veins. He could feel the tension, twisted up like a snake coiled to strike. He could see the thoughts running behind those eyes, eyes the same color as the killing curse. He was covetous. And he coveted Hadrian. He coveted the hands that could kill as easily as they could be tender. He had created that. Certainly, James and Lily Potter played a part, but this wasn't Harry Potter currently straddling him. It wasn't Harry Potter who found his way into his bed. It wasn't Harry Potter who could kill.

"I could kill you," Hadrian whispered. "You made certain of that. I could kill you, hunt down the rest of the horcruxes, and then kill me along with them. No more Lord Voldemort," He shivered as Hadrian said his title, "No more Harry Potter or Hadrian Krínos. Let the rest of them fight it out. You and I would be gone for good."

"But you won't."

Hadrian sighed. "But I won't." Hadrian dropped his head. "You made certain of that."

"I did." He hummed.

"And that is the game you truly care about." Hadrian's hand trailed between them, making short work of the button on his trousers and sliding inside them. He let out a low groan when Hadrian's hand wrapped around him. "What I'll do next." Hadrian pulled away then, pushing himself off the chair and moving toward the door swiftly. "Goodnight, Tom."


	18. Unbreakable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning there is slight suicidal ideation in this chapter.

Hadrian stood at the entrance to a tunnel. There was one for each house, with the house emblems over it and darkness ahead of him. Each participant had their own creature to face. The fastest to return would earn first place and so on from there. Given the nature of the creature awaiting Hadrian down his own path, he had little chance not to return first. And that was done purposefully. He knew the rest of the school could see them somehow, but it wasn't the rest of the school Hadrian was concerned with. It was Tom. He wished he could look into the other's eyes and roll his own at the blatant favoritism aimed his way. Of course, he who could speak Parseltongue, was pitted against a snake. Of course, he who was the horcrux of the snake's master, would face it within the walls of Hogwarts. 

It was only a matter of time until Hadrian met the basilisk. During his third year, he learned the story of the monster in Hogwarts. Salazar Slytherin, the namesake of Slytherin house, believed Hogwarts should house only purebloods. When the others disagreed, he decided to leave the school. However, before he left, he had built a secret chamber within the depths of the school which housed an unknown creature. Only Slytherin's heir could open the chamber and unleash the being within. Upon first hearing the story, Hadrian thought it was made up, a scary story to keep other houses in line and terrify the first years. However, ever curious, he researched the story for himself. It was only when he unearthed information about a death that occurred nearly fifty years prior did he being to believe. A girl, Myrtle Warren, had died mysteriously in one of the first-floor girl's lavatories. She continued to haunt there, having been named Moaning Myrtle, after her death. He didn't think much about the serpentine "S" on the locket Tom gave him in his fifth year until later pieces of a much larger picture began to connect themselves. Tom could speak Parseltongue. Tom was Voldemort. Tom was the heir of Slytherin. The pieces fit together annoyingly well.

What he had said to Tom was true. He didn't want to kill the basilisk. What a magnificent creature it was. The basilisk was one thousand years old and one of the deadliest creatures on the planet. The saying "if looks could kill" applied perfectly to the creature as one look in its eyes would instantly kill a person. It was likely the cause of Myrtle Warren's death. Meeting eyes with the creature in a reflection would cause full body paralysis or petrification. Like some other snakes, it was venomous and likely with teeth as sharp as knives. Basilisks had excellent senses with abilities to hear and smell further than most other creatures. 

It was insanity to have any student face it. And it was then that Hadrian knew he was truly insane.

A cannon echoed somewhere and Hadrian sucked in a breath. He could choose not to enter, and he would likely face consequences for that, but it would ultimately be safer than venturing into the unknown.

He stepped forward. 

The moment he was fully in the tunnel, the wall behind him sealed, trapping him within its depths. He looked over his shoulder at the darkness behind him, which was ultimately no different than the darkness in front of him. With another breath, he closed his eyes and reached out for the wall to his right. It was unlikely there would be a maze involved this time, though he was not foolish enough to think that one of the games in the future wouldn't include a maze and probably more creatures. He had spent several late nights with Draco speculating as to the games ahead of him. They had tried all the tricks they could think of to force the parchment to reveal more, but it was all useless. The first game combined Care of Magical Creatures with Defense. He assumed any number of other classes could be useful as well in any of the tasks, but this first one specifically was meant to test those two subjects. Did they know the creatures within and could they defend themselves when confronted with them? 

He could hear his every heartbeat in his ears, every breath bouncing off the walls, and every footstep on the cold, hard floor. His fingertips grazed the wall, running over smooth material until suddenly the world opened up around him. Part of him wanted to open his eyes and see what was likely something beautiful in front of him, but another, much louder, part told him to keep his eyes closed. While Tom seemed not to care if he died, he had made a point of carefully cultivating self-preservation in Hadrian. His self-preservation won out, shoving his curiosity down. He stepped into the open area, every other sense on high alert. All he could see was darkness, but he could hear and feel and smell. 

Hadrian stepped carefully, not letting his foot come completely off the ground. His visual impairment meant he would be less aware of anything in front of him. Part of him wondered if he should have transfigured a cane of sorts to feel ahead of him, but the time for that had passed. His hands were extended next to him, helping him keep his balance as he walked. But nothing moved around him, the ground never changed. He continued walking in what he hoped was a straight line until his foot nudged something ahead of him. For a terrifying moment, he thought he had just run into the basilisk. There was no cure for being eaten. He doubted even Lord Voldemort could resurrect him from a snake's digestive tract. But the object in front of him was too hard to the body of a serpent. He reached forward, feeling for what his foot brushed.

Wood.

He chanced opening his eyes to find a flag hanging on a pole at eye level. The flag was emerald with the Slytherin emblem on one side and the letters "H.K." on the other. He tucked the flag into his robes and shut his eyes once again. He hoped that the way to return was the same way he came in, or else he would spend a long time exploring while blind. It was only as he stepped back in the direction that he came that he heard a hiss echo through the likely cavernous area. Hadrian froze in his tracks. He wasn't certain if his heart stopped, or was beating so fast he could no longer feel it. The hiss was followed by the sound of scales moving swiftly across a stone floor. 

He straightened himself, his hand subconsciously moving to where his wand was stowed in his sleeve. 

_"That will not help you, little wizard."_ The basilisk said. 

_"I know."_ He answered. 

The swift movement of scales stopped immediately. _"A speaker?"_

 _"Yes."_

_"You do not smell like a descendent of Slytherin."_ The snake's voice seemed to echo around him.

 _"I am not."_ He affirmed.

 _"Yet you speak the language."_ He heard the distinct sound of the snake tasting the air, its tongue flicking. 

He was certain if he opened his eyes, he would first find the massive snake in front of him, and then he would find his death. Instead, he stood perfectly still and even folded his hands behind his back to hold himself steady.

 _"Smell_ _again."_ He offered.

If a snake could laugh, he was certain that was what the basilisk did as it again tasted the air around him.

 _"You are not a Slytherin."_ The snake affirmed. _"But you belong to one."_ He could hear the scales slide of the floor once again and he imagined he was being circled. _"I told my master once, years ago, of a potential way to thwart death."_

 _"_ You _told Tom about horcruxes?"_

 _"What little I know, yes."_ The snake answered. _"He did not like the name Tom Riddle then. Perhaps because you belong to him, he gives you an exception."_

 _"I don't belong to him."_ Hadrian all but growled.

 _"No?"_ He could almost feel the snake staring at him. _"You hold his soul. Both within you and on you."_ It took everything he had to keep himself from reaching for the locket under his robes. _"Perhaps you do not belong to him._ " The snake said after a moment. _"Perhaps he belongs to you."_ Hadrian swallowed thickly. _"Gifts are often part of mating rituals for many species, my own included. What a gift to be given a piece of one's soul."_ The snake brushed against him and he shivered. " _I will not hurt you, young master."_ The snake moved again. _"I will return you where you belong."_ Hadrian felt himself exhale in relief. _"Reach to your right. I will guide you through. You need not keep your eyes closed anymore. I will see you safely through the dark."_

He was grateful that the basilisk moved slow enough for him to walk next to it as they maneuvered through the tunnels. The snake's body shifted under his touch, rough scales brushing his hand. In the brief glimpse he caught of the massive snake, he could see its body was covered in dark green scales. He didn't dare look for its eyes, though he did ask what color they were. He was certain the snake laughed again before saying they were yellow, like the color it assumed the sun was. The snake continued to talk as they moved, telling him about Salazar Slytherin and the egg _she_ was currently hatching within the Chamber of Secrets. He had closed his eyes while they moved, finding the need to try to see in the dark distracting. 

_"Thank you,"_ Hadrian said as she deposited him at the exit.

He heard her return through the tunnels and he opened his eyes once more, blinking into the light in front of him. 

Hadrian was the first to return and the only one to return unscathed. He deposited his flag and left, not caring which student returned after him or even if they were alive. Only one thought bounced around his mind, as it had since the basilisk spoke it.

_Perhaps he belongs to you._

* * *

The second game was harder than the first.

Hadrian knew he had it easy during the first game whereas others did not. He never told anyone which creature he faced, or rather didn't, in his tunnel, though he heard that Justin had faced a dragon, Cho had faced a chimera, and Neville had faced a manticore. The first game was deadly for each of them and Hadrian felt as though he had cheated. In truth, it wasn't him who cheated. It was Voldemort who had carefully planned the tasks ahead of them. And that only enraged him. Hadrian made his way through the first game easily and unharmed while the rest battled for their lives against equally dangerous creatures. All Hadrian did was talk. 

He didn't bother seeking Tom out for lessons or any other activities. He was too angry, too livid at the blatant favoritism that had only hit him after the first game was over. Of course, the other wouldn't truly gamble with his life. They were twisted around each other. If Hadrian died, Voldemort would be a step closer to mortality. And if Hadrian died with the locket around his neck-

Well, Hadrian assumed that the next task of the basilisk might have been to eat him. He doubted even a horcrux could survive basilisk venom. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have let the snake kill him and bring Voldemort closer to death. Someone would avenge him, someone would finish the job and kill Voldemort where he couldn't. Maybe it would be James, Sirius, and Remus, the only three living Order members Hadrian knew of. Maybe his death would have been enough to drag Draco out from Voldemort's clutches. Maybe his death would have started another war and the whole thing would burn down with him. 

The whole situation made him angry. His anger, coupled with the lack of usage of dark magic, made him twitchy and restless. He was going to explode. He just hoped when he did, he would bring all of Hogwarts with him. Right down on Voldemort's head. 

He barely slept after the first game. That night the next task appeared on the parchment but Hadrian didn't bother reading it. He would go into the next blind. He would go into the game risking death as punishment. For who? He wasn't quite certain. Maybe he was punishing Tom for showing him blatant favoritism. Maybe he was punishing himself for wanting to bask in that favoritism. Maybe he was punishing Voldemort for killing his mother. Maybe he was punishing himself for the war of feelings within him, the most deafening of them being love. 

_Perhaps he belongs to you._ The speculation by the basilisk had made his heart thunder for reason that weren't related to the deadly creature in front of him. Instead, he felt this strange flutter in his heart and in his gut. As though someone had replaced his organs with butterflies. He knew he was attracted to Tom. He was more than well aware of that. He knew that Tom had cultivated something within him that needed to be seen and around the man. He knew that part of himself craved the attention and the darkness that Tom had instilled in him. But he had never before considered that he had fallen in love with him. Not even when Tom whispered confession in the middle of the night that he thought fell on deaf ears. Not even when he found himself returning to Tom again and again despite everything. 

He hated him. 

He loved him.

He hated himself.

In hindsight, looking at the parchment likely would have helped him when he found himself at the edge of the Black Lake. The others were dressed in appropriate outfits to wade into the dark water, but it didn't bother him. Instead, his mind came up with a fabulous idea. An idea that would flaunt himself in front of everyone and remind Tom exactly what he had been denying him.

With a wink at Slytherin house, he waded into the water in nothing but his underwear, the locket, and his wand strapped to his arm. 

Hadrian had never explored the Black Lake before. The closest he had come was sitting at the edge of the lake. Even after his strange encounter, he had returned the lake when he couldn't think but he never again met the stranger on the banks. He only had the water in front of him and the various sounds of things running through the forest. A few times he had been tempted to join them. He could step into the forest and never look back. Something would likely kill him but he wouldn't care.

He didn't even know what he was looking for in the lake. Maybe a flag like before. Maybe it was a person. Or maybe he would just stay under the water. The Black Lake was massive and incredibly deep. So deep that the bottom couldn't even be seen in the Slytherin common room. He used the bubble-head charm to give him air as he began to swim through the water. Each of the four students went their separate directions, but just before Neville disappeared, Hadrian could see the pink healing flesh of the burn on the back of his leg.

He spun in the water, feeling it rush over his skin. Maybe he would stay here. 

He swam deeper into the water, looking to see where the Black Lake met the windows of the Slytherin common room. Perhaps he could look inside and scare someone inside. But before he reached the windows, something much larger crossed his path. 

Hadrian was staring directly into one of the eyes of the Giant Squid and he was certain he was dead. But the squid only blinked and turned before stopping and looking at him. The squid swam back and circled him before moving back in the direction it was headed, stopping once again to stare at him with massive eyes. He sighed. He understood the message and once again, something was helping him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tell the squid to eat him, to poison him, to do something other than lead him through the waters of the Black Lake. But it would be useless. It was a squid. How he had managed to befriend a squid, he wasn't certain. He had only ever seen the thing either by just a tentacle that poked through the water or when it stared into the Slytherin common room. But here it was leading him through the lake.

Hadrian followed reluctantly and rather slowly. Maybe if he lost this round, maybe if he came in last, his message would finally be received. His defiance would finally be received. 

Tom hadn't pushed him in the weeks between the first two games. He hadn't summoned him, hadn't asked him to stay after classes, hadn't given him extra attention. Hadrian was going to go mad if he wasn't already. 

The squid led him through the water. He caught glimpses of mermaids as they swam away from the massive creature in front of him. Perhaps it was better he was being led by the squid. It was the biggest thing in the massive lake, nothing would bother him. It was too easy. It was all too easy. 

He found another flag, this one made waterproof. It waved slightly in the current of the lake along with the other three. For a brief, sadistic moment, Hadrian was tempted to grab the other flags and scatter them along the bottom of the lake. The squid had vanished sometime between Hadrian's first sighting of the flag and the moment he grabbed it. He swam in place, his mind offering him a terrible possibility before he saw the squid returning, Neville Longbottom in tow.

It was only his competitive drive that made him swim away and toward the surface. He broke through with Neville on his tail. He could just stop. How maddening would that be for Tom to watch him willingly cede his lead to his competition. And a Gryffindor at that. But he caught Draco's eyes, grey meeting emerald, and he suddenly couldn't give in. He swam forward, propelling himself through the water and toward the platform his friends were cheering from. He hauled himself upward, waving his flag as he did. He handed the flag to Draco before turning, ignoring the cold that sank into his bones from his lack of clothing and the water in the cool air, to drag Neville up behind him. It was a small show of defiance. Neville thanked him quietly before he was enveloped by the Gryffindor hoard. Hadrian turned back to Slytherin house and met Draco's incredulous look. 

He grinned and the house erupted in cheers. They would assume he was playing at something when he pulled Neville onto the platform. A way to make his competitor lower his guard so Hadrian could sweep the competition from under him. But the moment he caught Tom's eyes, he knew his real message was received.

_I will not break so easily._

It was two days later when he learned the depth of his mistake.

A letter from Sirius arrived during breakfast. Before, he would have hidden it. But there was no point in hiding anything, including the reaction that he knew crossed his face.

"Hadrian?" Draco asked from across the table. "What's wrong?"

"He has my father."


	19. Leverage

Draco was terrified. Genuinely terrified. He knew Hadrian was powerful. He had been aware of this from the first moment they had met all those years ago in the Great Hall. But he had never expected the power that now radiated from him. He never expected the terror that was running through his veins at this moment once the shock of the letter in his hands wore off. The shock was replaced with anger.

It started with the letter going up in flames at the Slytherin house table. Then he watched as, terrifyingly, Hadrian's magic seemed to manifest. He watched the magic crawl to his eyes and the emerald shine with dark magic. He didn't know that Hadrian had ever practiced dark magic, but he had been around his family enough to know what it felt like as it radiated from someone.

Hadrian stood slowly, purposefully, from the table and suddenly it started rattling under them. The long table vibrated as Hadrian's fists clenched. All eyes were now on the wild-haired Slytherin, standing from the table and untouched breakfast before him. The Ravenclaw table began to shake next, followed by the Hufflepuff table, and then the Gryffindor table on the other side of the hall. Then the professor's table began to shake. The hourglasses with the tetra-colored jewels exploded; emerald, ruby, sapphire, and citrine spilling onto the floor.

Hadrian's eyes stared at something in the middle distance before the candles above them began to flicker. The torches on the wall flickered and suddenly all the light in the hall flickered out. 

Draco thought that might be the end of it. He thought maybe Hadrian would march from the hall. But it wasn't done there.

The walls began to shake. Draco thought the whole castle would come crashing down on their heads, with only Hadrian left standing.

Hadrian's fists clenched and the windows began to shake. He stepped carefully over the bench, still staring at nothing in particular. Part of him, a dark part, wanted to see if Hadrian could actually kill Voldemort. He knew who Voldemort was, he knew that Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort were the same person, but the man was terrifying and near immortal. But given the dark look in Hadrian's eyes and the stone walls shaking around them, he thought maybe, just maybe, someone could kill Voldemort. He didn't know what would happen to him if that came to fruition, but he did know he was curious. 

Hadrian marched from the Great Hall and the rest of the castle began to shake with him. Small pieces of dust from the ceiling fell onto their plates and all at once, the whole of Hogwarts seemed to be screaming. He was pulled from the hall by either Crabbe or Goyle, he wasn't certain, as the whole castle shook. He caught a glimpse of Hadrian, magic radiating from him in waves, as he was pushed outside. He blinked into the sun, bodies pressing against his as they shuffled together. Some of the first years were wide-eyed and terrified. He managed to turn himself around to see the castle behind him. He wasn't the only one. Professors ran from the building, finding their student body shoved together as though they were safer in numbers. He could see Severus, his godfather, jumping from person to person in the crowd. The moment their gazes met, he could see realization dawn in the other's eyes. This was Hadrian, a very angry Hadrian. Barty soon made his way from the castle, doing his best to calm the chaos that Hadrian left in his wake. Bodies jostled his as he returned to looking at the castle, watching stone walls shake and windows crack.

* * *

Tom trotted next to him as he stormed through the castle. Why the locket chose now to manifest, he wasn't certain, but the other didn't say anything. Instead, he kept every step even with Hadrian's as they moved toward the Defense classroom. He didn't know exactly what he would do as he arrived, but he did know he risked bringing the whole castle down on top of them. He wasn't certain he would care. Why should he? Why should he care about anyone within the castle? Why should he care if he took Voldemort with him? Why should he care about the children of the Death Eaters and Order alike? They could all rot and he along with them.

His vision was red around the edges and his entire body was shaking. He could hear the castle rumbling around him as he walked. People ran past him, fear evident in their eyes but he didn't care. None of it mattered. He had one goal in mind and it was at the end of the hall. 

What would he do when he saw Tom? What would he do when he saw _Voldemort?_ This was the man who killed his mother. This was the man who kidnapped his father. This was the man who had groomed and manipulated him since he was a child, since he was a one-year-old. This man had planned his life for him and cut down anyone in his path. This was the man who seduced him and used him for his own gain. He should kill him. He should rid himself of him and every scattered piece of him before ridding the world of himself. Voldemort had perfectly crafted him in his image, and now he would burn the world down to rid it of him. Maybe he would start with the locket. He would have to kill Nagini too. A shame as he had grown rather fond of the snake. But there was no doubt in his mind that she was also a horcrux. The only other living horcrux. Maybe he could persuade her to help him. Maybe-

Hadrian's thoughts were cut short as he pushed open the wooden door of the Defense classroom, only to find its occupant on the other side. Or rather, occupants. The castle ceased its shaking as Hadrian's magic stilled. 

"Hadrian," Tom purred. "Come in." Hadrian blinked. "I was just explaining to your father about the inter-house games."

The door shut loudly behind him as two Toms looked at him, both equally amused. 

"Still want to kill me, Hadrian?" The locked purred in his ear.

"Are you all right?" He was addressing James, but he couldn't force his eyes to leave Tom's. There was a playful, dangerous light in his dark eyes and Hadrian wanted to rip it out by the roots.

"I'm fine," James answered. Hadrian could see his head swinging back and forth between Hadrian and Tom. "What was-"

"Me." Hadrian interrupted, answering the question his father had been about to ask. "Padfoot sent a letter."

"No need to keep up the charade, _Harry._ " Tom purred. "I know your father is James Potter and I know this Padfoot," He looked at Hadrian as though he were making certain he was right, even though he knew he was. "Is Sirius Black. I also know that Remus Lupin is out and about somewhere." Hadrian could see James swallow thickly. "But there is no need to worry." He waved his hand flippantly. "No harm will come to them."

 _As long as I cooperate._ Hadrian thought bitterly. 

"I thought you didn't want coercion." He spat.

"Oh, I don't." His fingers tapped on the desk. "But even still, I demand a small amount of cooperation. And I'm well aware of those," He cocked his head. "Dark thoughts of yours."

 _Which ones?_ Hadrian wanted to snap. _I've had plenty._

But he knew which ones Tom was referring to. The thoughts that removed Hadrian from the game. He wouldn't force Hadrian to join him, but he would not tolerate his death.

"I've invited your father to stay at the castle to watch the games," He waved to James. "As my guest."

"Absolutely not." Hadrian snapped and Tom raised an eyebrow. 

Their eyes met in a silent war. Hadrian wouldn't tolerate his father being under Voldemort's thumb to pull out like a weapon he could brandish against Hadrian. And Voldemort wouldn't tolerate him plotting his own death any further. But there was no way he was going to let James go and part of Hadrian worried that without his father in his sights, Voldemort would kill him anyway. 

"Put him with Severus." He said eventually.

"They might kill each other," Tom hummed. Not that he cared.

"Put. Him. With. Severus." His eyes darted to James. "They won't do anything."

James met his eyes, a question within them before understanding dawned. At least with Severus, he would be a modicum safer. The man had thought he was protecting Harry Potter all these years, he would tolerate James's presence for a little while.

"Besides," Hadrian continued, turning back to Tom. "There is more room in the dungeons. They might not have to see each other. But here," He waved to Tom's room. "There's less space."

He knew Tom would hear what Hadrian wasn't saying aloud. _Release my father and I'll come back._

"Very well." Tom agreed after a moment. "Severus is on his way. He will escort you to where you will stay."

Hadrian flashed James a look and James nodded. After a moment, the door behind him opened and Severus entered. Hadrian could only see him out of the corner of his eye, but he looked more flustered than Hadrian had ever seen him. 

"Ah, Severus," There was a wicked gleam in Tom's eye. "I trust you remember James Potter?" He could cut the tension in the room with a butter knife. "Good. He will be sharing your quarters in the dungeons for the time being. Place him wherever you like but be gentle."

James stood carefully, his eyes glued to Hadrian before he, rather reluctantly, followed Severus from the room. Hadrian waited for the door to shut behind him before he walked purposefully into the room. His hands slammed down on the desk, eyes glued to the other's.

"I have conditions."

"I'm listening."

"You don't touch James, Sirius, or Remus." Tom smirked. "Not one finger. Not you, not any of your Death Eaters."

"Very well." Tom conceded after a moment.

"And I want Pettigrew."

At that, Tom raised an eyebrow. "What do you want with him?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know."

"You're going to kill him." Tom purred again. His eyes were gleaming with content and an emotion Hadrian was certain was pride. 

"What I do is my business," Hadrian snapped. "But I want him out of whatever hole he's in. I want him where I can get him."

"Done." Tom grinned. "Anything else?" Hadrian didn't answer. "Well, if you think of anything, you know where I am." His tongue trailed over his teeth. "You are always welcome."

"For now," He growled. "I'm going to make sure my father and Snape don't murder each other."

Hadrian turned on his heel and walked from the room, hearing a small laugh follow him. The door slammed shut behind him as he walked back into the corridor he had come from moments before. The castle wasn't shaking anymore and people had started to filter back in. The windows, which had cracked with the force of his magic, were sealing themselves. He caught sight of Draco down the hall who flashed him a question in his eyes but Hadrian shook his head. He had too much on his mind at the moment to answer Draco's questions. Draco nodded and Hadrian could see the underlying statement. He would be there when he was ready to talk. While the students returned to their tasks for the morning, some of the younger ones still visibly shaken, Hadrian took his chance to lean against one of the cold stone walls. That much magic had drained him, making him feel sluggish and slow. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the chill of the wall settle into his bones. He would likely fall asleep after this. After he made certain his father wasn't about to become a murderer. 

He pushed himself off the wall with a sigh and trudged, rather sluggishly, toward the stairs. He hadn't realized previously that he had as much magic within him, that he had the ability to bring Hogwarts down on top of them as he had once wished. It should have boosted his ego to know he was that powerful, powerful enough to bring down an ancient, magic castle. But mostly he just felt like he was wading through jelly. Each step ached as though he had done physically strenuous work. His hands hung limply at his sides as he took each stair slowly. It felt like it took him an hour to reach the dungeons. 

He walked toward Severus's door, hearing arguing on the other side before he ever arrived. He didn't bother knocking but instead opened the door and entered, shutting it with a loud click behind him. Neither man noticed. James and Severus were glaring daggers at each other. On their own, both seemed to have moved passed whatever had happened in their youth. But maybe it was easier to move beyond it when they weren't staring into the other's eyes, hoping the other would explode. 

James stood with his hands clenched and teeth gritted. Severus on the other hand seemed to be puffing himself up, trying to make himself bigger. Dark eyes stared into hazel with intensity. 

"Well, _I_ wasn't the one who told Voldemort about the prophecy!" James yelled.

"Well, _I_ wasn't the one who put my faith in the wrong person!" Severus yelled back.

"Yes, you did!" James snapped. "You put your faith in _him._ And now Lily's dead!"

"Enough!" Hadrian snapped, a nearby cauldron exploding.

He looked back and forth between the two men, making certain to glare equally at them. 

"Whatever squabble you two have, it's over." He could see Severus opening his mouth to protest. "Over!" Hadrian insisted. "This is exactly what he wants. He wants you two to fight and kill each other. He gets rid of both of you in one fell swoop. No more James Potter, Harry's father," He looked pointedly at James. "And no more Severus Snape, the man once in love with Lily Evans." He looked pointedly at Snape. "He wants you to tear into each other and rid him of you both. You both pose a threat." He could hear James sigh, knowing he was right. "Now listen." He slumped against the door, the adrenaline of hearing the argument rushing from his system. "This is done. Make your apologies. Come to a tentative peace. I can't be watching the two of you and dealing with these games and Quidditch and classes and _him._ Enough is enough."

Both men glared at each other but the argument seemed to have fizzled between them. 

"Now," Hadrian leaned his head back, his vision beginning to darken. "You two stay out of each other's way. And stay out of his." _And mine._ "And we will all live through this year."

"What deal did you make?" Severus demanded. 

"None of your concern." His eyes flicked to James. "Either of you." He pushed himself off the door. "Make your peace."

With that, he opened the door and stepped into the corridor. He wasn't certain how exactly he managed to return to the dorm, but the next thing he knew, he was falling onto familiar emerald and silver sheets and into the welcoming arms of sleep.


	20. Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Hadrian hovered over the pitch, watching other players dart below him. Here and there, they scrambled for the Quaffle while Crabbe and Goyle seemed to find the bludgers with regularity. The Gryffindor team dodged flying bodies and bludgers at every moment. He could swear Crabbe and Goyle were tossing the bludgers between them with how frequent they seemed to be in a position to hit them. Draco darted across the pitch, Quaffle in hand as he sped like a rocket toward the hoops. There was a sharp ring and the announcement that Slytherin had scored another ten points.

"Another goal for Slytherin! They lead Gryffindor 150 to 50."

The Gryffindor seeker looked over the field frantically. But Hadrian knew exactly where the snitch was. He could see it, hovering just outside one of the stands for the professors. This one currently held not only Severus Snape — the head of Slytherin house — but also Tom Riddle and James Potter. Hadrian wished the stand would explode. The Gryffindor seeker hadn't noticed the snitch, but Hadrian was too annoyed to go after it just yet. Every second he could feel at least two sets of eyes on him in addition to the intense gazes of Slytherin house. Sometimes there would be a third, and it was maddening. Tom's eyes never left him, watching him over the rest of the game. But sometimes Severus's eyes would leap upward to where he hovered, just high enough so that he wouldn't be plowed over by the chasers. And sometimes it would be James's eyes focusing on him. This was the first Quidditch game James had seen since he was a chaser for the Gryffindor team. He idly wondered if his father's loyalties in the game were torn between his former house and his son, who captained his former house's rival team. 

Hadrian had trained his team vigorously during the year. Slytherin was undefeated for the last two years since Hadrian became captain in his fifth year. His fight with his magic had definitely led him to drill his team relentlessly after taking over, but they were a well-oiled machine by the beginning of last year and even better this year. Hadrian felt bad for whoever was going to take over the team after him. They would have several spots to fill including two chasers, both beaters, and a seeker. But the keeper was a promising candidate. She had taken everything Hadrian had said to heart. She was small, with a fast broom, making her blur when she went to block the Quaffle. 

He circled the pitch, careful to avoid sending the snitch running so he wouldn't have to find it once again. He decided to wait until the other seeker went after it before he did. The thrill of competition. A sharp ring echoed over the pitch again and the other seeker cursed under his breath. Hadrian couldn't stop the smirk that flashed across his face. Up in the air, things seemed so much smaller. His worry over James's presence, wondering if Tom kept his end of the bargain, keeping Severus and James from tearing each other apart, even where he would sit when all was said and done, he didn't know but it didn't matter in the air. Nothing mattered as much and it was a welcome reprieve. For a while, Quidditch hadn't helped him, it hadn't been the reprieve he had yearned for. But after having nearly collapsed the castle, he was much calmer.

He was surprised at how few consequences he had following his loss of control. Barty called him to his office to pretend to scold him, but instead, he offered Hadrian some candy and asked where he thought he would be going after Hogwarts. There was no detention, no points taken from Slytherin, there was nothing to indicate that Hadrian was punished for nearly killing them all. If he were someone else, he was certain the result would be expulsion. But instead, the incident was mostly ignored. Except for the other students. Those who weren't afraid of him before were now and the other Slytherins tended to have some degree of awe in their eyes when he saw them. It was annoying.

The game was the last of the year before Winter Break and Hadrian for once was dreading it. Normally, the break meant he could go home, even for a couple of weeks, and leave Tom and his heavy gaze behind. But he doubted Tom would let him leave this time. Especially with James already at the school. 

James had been exploring the castle, remembering the places he went to when he attended. He had apparently scared the caretaker one day, on accident Hadrian was told. But James seemed rather pleased with himself and the parchment he was constantly carrying. He had also ventured to Hogsmeade, where he spent most of the day when Hadrian was in class. It was enough to know that Severus and James weren't always around each other. 

Hadrian had held up his end of the bargain, returning to lessons with Tom. But that had been the extent of it. Hadrian never stayed and every night he returned to the Slytherin dormitory. He was certainly paying for that now with his every movement being followed Tom's keen, dark eyes. 

The Gryffindor seeker finally caught sight of the snitch and Hadrian's heart began to pound. The other seeker shot forward and Hadrian mirrored him, their bodies colliding as they chased the snitch. It turned quickly and Hadrian he was glad he had forced himself to practice cornering. The snitch shot toward the ground with Hadrian on its tail. He could feel several eyes on him as he dove toward the ground. The pitch was rapidly approaching, with the other seeker just behind him. The snitch shot forward and he pulled his broom to meet it. The wind pounded in his ears, everything else faded away. It was just him and that damned gold ball. And it was his. The snitch was leading him right toward one of the goalposts and if he didn't move quickly enough, he would slam into it. Or the other seeker would force him into it. It was exciting. He felt a grin pull at his lips as he neared, lowering himself until his chest was almost touching the broom. Everything slowed until he could see every beat of the snitch's golden wings. He sped forward, the goalpost neared, the Gryffindor seeker was at his shoulder. 

His grin pulled more across his face. 

_Just a little closer._

The cheering faded into the background. The wind faded into the background. James's proud gaze faded into the background. Severus's attempt at disinterest faded into the background. Tom's dark, heavy gaze faded into the background. There was nothing but him, the Gryffindor seeker, and the snitch.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

They were almost at the goalpost and Hadrian could feel the other seeker shift slightly, ready to push him into it. 

He reached.

And his fingers closed around it.

He turned quickly as the Gryffindor seeker tried to shoot inward, only to slam against the post themselves. Hadrian shot into the air, twitching snitch in hand.

A whistle blew across the pitch. 

"SLYTHERIN WINS!"

He and Draco collided in mid-air just over the pitch, the two of them falling off their brooms and into the grass in a heap. Hadrian still had the snitch. He felt elation, true elation for the first time in a long time. His smile was genuine as he and Draco hauled themselves off the pitch, the rest of the team landing to lurch forward. He could hear the cheers from the Slytherin house that roared through the stadium. He pulled Draco closer, pressing a kiss into his bright blonde hair. The team paraded from the stadium, yelling and chattering happily. He could hear the others filter out of the stands, the Slytherins still yelling happily. 

Hadrian dropped the snitch into the collection with the various other snitches he had gathered over the years. Due to the flesh memories, snitches hardly ever responded well after they were touched the first time. As a result, Hogwarts went through several snitches in a year. The winning seeker was allowed to keep the snitch, or give it up to be readjusted and practically made new. But Hadrian kept every snitch. He didn't know why he felt the insane need to hoard them, but he had quite the collection going. He patted his teammates on the shoulders, congratulating each of them. He heard someone, likely Draco, mention a party in the Slytherin common room to celebrate the end of the semester and their win. But Hadrian was already gone.

Most of the school had returned to the castle already, except for the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams. Hadrian saw the other captain, offering a small wave that was returned. But his mind was still elsewhere.

He could almost say he was happy. And that damned happiness drew him somewhere else. It was a Saturday, there were no classes. Nothing obligating him to return to the dorm nor any classes he had to attend. He practically trotted through the castle until he found the door he was looking for, sliding through it with ease.

Tom had only arrived a few minutes before him if even that. The other was still undoing his scarf when he heard the door open and shut, Hadrian moving through the room swiftly. 

"Congratulations on your win today, Hadrian." Tom hummed, pulling his scarf off fully. "Spectacular game." His eyes flitted over Hadrian's body. He hadn't bothered to change from his uniform, which was by far much tighter than any of the other clothes he owned. "Is there something you are here for, Hadrian?"

"Yes," He breathed before wrapping his hand around the back of the other's neck and pulling him forward into a crushing kiss.

Tom responded immediately, wrapping his arms around him and returning the kiss. They moved through the door Tom had just left, moving through the office and into Tom's bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him. They moved further into the room, Hadrian's hand already pulling at Tom's clothing. 

"You seem happy," Tom hummed as he moved from Hadrian's mouth to his neck, biting and kissing lightly at his pulse point. 

"I am." He affirmed. He pulled his shirt off while Tom mirrored him, their bodies coming together once again. "I realized I was happy." He pressed kisses against Tom's neck. "And there was only one place I wanted to go. One person I wanted to share it with."

Tom wrapped his hands around Hadrian's thighs and pulled upward. He moved with him, wrapping his legs around the other's body. Their lips meeting again. His hand wrapped around the back of Hadrian's neck, holding him in their kiss. They moved toward the bed, falling with Hadrian on his back and Tom on top of him. He ground upward, feeling Tom's familiar body press back into his. The only other person he knew as well as himself was Tom. Just as Tom likely knew him equally as well.

"You're mine," Tom half growled, half whispered in his ear. "No one else's. Just mine."

"And what of you?" Hadrian rolled them so he was straddling the other. 

"I can't love, Hadrian." Tom rested a hand on his bicep. "I can want, lust. A few other things. But love is not an emotion I can feel. But you _are mine._ You have been for years. I claimed you all those years ago. You are my equal, Hadrian. The one person I would ever consider as such. You belong to me. And I belong to you."

They quickly dispensed with the rest of their clothing after a demanding kiss. He kept Tom under him, for once determined to be in control of this aspect of their relationship. Normally, he let Tom do whatever he wanted. Take or give what he wanted. But Hadrian wasn't feeling as generous this time. He didn't bother with the normal preparation that Tom made a point of doing but instead settled himself onto the other until he was fully seated, ignoring the discomfort that came with it. Tom's hands gripped his hips with almost bruising intensity. And Hadrian hummed with satisfaction. Tom let him take what he wanted, take his pleasure, and was willing to give whatever Hadrian let him. It was almost as exhilarating as the game. 

Hadrian shifted upward, before sinking back down, feeling a shudder run through his body. He repeated the movement, feeling Tom's hands flex on his hips. He shifted slightly before moving upward again and sinking and a small moan echoed from his throat. Tom gave an experimental thrust upward to meet him on the next movement and pleasure rocked through his body. He threw his head back, feeling the locket shift on his neck as he did. Their movements began to increase, with Tom tightening his grip on him. Tom's thrusts became more demanding and Hadrian had the same elation in his gut as when he rode a broom. Only this was far more dangerous than a broom. The hands gripping his hips had killed before and could kill him. But he wouldn't. And that was by far more exciting.

He should have done this sooner.

He felt a small, pleased smile pull at his lips as he moved, feeling Tom's body tense under him. The locket bounced on his chest and Tom let out a moan. 

He knew he would stay that night.

* * *

James trotted through the castle, a smug satisfaction in him that he could still find all the passageways. The map still worked, though he couldn't help the twinge of sadness and then anger that ran through him at seeing the name Wormtail.

He shifted the map, watching his own name move through the castle. He almost ran directly into Draco who was coming from the opposite direction. Both were moving toward the dungeons, but James hadn't noticed his name until it was too late. Draco looked up at him and opened his mouth for a second before shutting it again and leaning closer to study him slightly. James could smell the firewhiskey on him and he repressed a smile.

"You're not Hadrian," He swayed slightly. "But you two look alike." Draco cocked his head. "Expect your eyes. And the hair. His is more-" He splayed his hands over his head to demonstrate Harry's much wilder hair while giving the movement a sound effect. 

James laughed. "Yes. His hair has always been wilder." 

Draco nodded and moved down one step, swaying slightly. James sighed slightly and stepped forward to help him but Draco batted him away.

"I can handle myself." He said, slurring the last word slightly. "Been doing it for years, thank you." James hummed in response. He didn't move to help Draco again, but he did stay close just in case. "What's that?" Draco asked, nodding toward the map in his hand.

"Oh," James looked down at it for a second. "It's nothing. Just a reminder of my days at Hogwarts."

Draco's eyes came to his face again and he narrowed them slightly. "He gets his troublemaking side from you." He pointed somewhere over James's shoulder, though he was certain it was meant for him.

"He's a troublemaker?"

Draco shrugged. "He's not bad. Just very-" He waved his hand flippantly. "He's always been kinda terrifying. He advanced early and ever since he's scared people. And then the other day-" Draco shrugged again. "I've never seen him that angry."

"You and Harry are friends." James began, hoping his prodding was subtle.

"Oh yes," Draco hummed. "Since first year."

James nodded and was silent for a moment as they moved down another step. "How close are he and-"

"Professor Riddle?" Draco asked. He leaned in conspiratorially. " _Voldemort?_ " Draco chuckled darkly. "They're _close._ "

"How close?"

They reached the bottom step and were firmly in the dungeon once more. They walked forward until Draco paused, leaning against the wall. He reached out and tapped the map twice before smiling slightly. 

"Close." He said again. He stretched and pushed off the wall, slurring another word before the wall began to shift. "I got my air." He said, mostly to himself. "Now back to the party." He looked at James for a second. "You won't find Hadrian tonight." He stepped forward. "Goodnight Mr. Potter."

James watched him enter the Slytherin common room before looking down at the map in his hands. He walked toward Severus's quarters, one of which had become his temporary home. As he walked, he opened the map more, searching for his son's name. He had just stepped in the door, feeling another pair of eyes on him when he found Harry's name.

The name Harry James Potter blended with the name Tom Marvolo Riddle, the names shifting slightly as time went on. He knew what it meant, he too had been a teenager in Hogwarts. He looked up at Severus who was eyeing him warily before striding forward and dropping the map on the man's desk.

"Did you know?"


	21. The In Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

"Did you know?" 

Severus was quite honestly growing tired of the Potter men. Or perhaps there was only one of them. Over time, he watched the lines between Hadrian Krínos and Harry Potter blur. It seemed that he was less and less the shy boy that was wary of his every action to the strong young man and now powerful adult groomed under Voldemort's careful attention. He began to suspect, the closer he watched Riddle and Hadrian become, that Voldemort had kept him at Hogwarts for this very purpose. A sort of subtle torture. Severus was doomed to watch the son of the woman he loved fall in love — or at least obsession — with her killer. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

He looked down at the parchment that James had tossed in front of him from where he stood on the other side of the desk. The two of them were very careful to avoid one another throughout the day, even going so far as to stay on opposite sides of the castle. Severus wondered how the other man had managed such a feat of staying out of the way of almost everyone and vanishing from the castle to make his way to Hogsmeade, but the parchment in front of him gave him some answer. 

It was, in fact, an impressive magical feat. Hogwarts was protected by a series of charms and enchantments meant to keep the outside world from impeding on it and risking the safety of the students. As a result, there were impacts within the school such as Muggle radios didn't work within the school grounds and apparition was difficult. When they were students at Hogwarts, James and his intolerable friends had accomplished the same feat of seeming to be everywhere at once and then would vanish without a trace. He saw the names Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs at the top and he was well aware that those were the names James and his friends used at Hogwarts and subsequently within the Order to identify themselves. The fact that they had accomplished such a feat of magic irked Severus slightly. 

But as he focused more on the parchment, he noticed the names Harry James Potter and Tom Marvolo Riddle had overlapped. Had the two been in the same room, it was likely that their names would be separate. Not as close to the point of overlapping as they were now. 

"I suspected," He began carefully. And it was true. He had wondered if Voldemort's plans had included a gentler approach, along with the apparent grooming of Harry Potter, but he never expected the sheer intimacy of it until the boy was in his sixth year and Riddle's eyes became hungrier. "I had no proof." 

James sighed. "There's your proof." 

"And what do you propose to do about it? Are you going to storm in on the Dark Lord of all people and tell him he can't have what he wants?" Severus answered dryly. "Perhaps you would go there now. I wonder which of them would kill you. It's equally as likely that it would be your son as it would be _him._ "

James sighed again, this time much more dramatically. "This wasn't how it was supposed to go." He gestured to the parchment dramatically. "He was supposed to be Voldemort's downfall." 

"'Neither can live while the other survives.'" Severus quoted. "The Dark Lord thinks he knows an alternative meaning to the prophecy. One that he was more than willing to attempt to exploit." 

"What?" James demanded. "What does he think he knows that could possibly circumvent something like this? It's fate, not a test or a war. It's prophesied, preordained-" He cut himself off abruptly, staring somewhere to Severus's left. 

Severus raised an eyebrow as James's face paled and the man dropped into the chair on the other side of his desk with a huff. 

"He's a horcrux." 

Severus's stomach backflipped for a moment after having heard James talk about such dark magic. He'd only ever heard of it in theory, and once mentioned by Dumbledore before his death, but never had he heard of a human horcrux. 

"That's how Voldemort subverted the prophecy. Even if he died, there would still be a part of him living in Harry. And if Harry died, it would mean nothing to him. The only way to defeat Voldemort is Harry's death." 

Severus had grown up in the Muggle world, with a Muggle father. He wasn't one to normally embrace it or acknowledge any part of it. But even he couldn't stop the very Muggle word that left his mouth.

"Fuck."

* * *

Hadrian woke wrapped in Tom's arms. 

He wasn't exactly expecting to blink awake to find himself staring at the other's throat. Or to feel the way Tom's arms flexed around him, only for him to let out a soft breath before stilling once more. It was strange to Hadrian, finding that when he looked up, Tom was asleep. He didn't think Tom ever slept. He was always awake when Hadrian went to sleep and awake when he woke up. Even during the night, the random times he woke, Tom would still be there idly stroking his back or arm. 

He watched the other, studying the man now asleep in his arms. 

Tom didn't stay asleep though, eventually blinking at Hadrian in the morning light. 

"Morning," Tom muttered, voice thick with sleep. The other slid his arm down Hadrian's body, eventually grabbing at his thigh and pulling his leg over Tom's. "Stay." 

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Tom's grip tightened on him. "James is in the castle. Severus is here too. They'll either kill each other or come looking."

"They can't get in." 

Hadrian found himself smiling, almost shyly. Tom shifted forward. 

"I could hear you thinking when you went to sleep last night." 

"Couldn't you just get in my head and find out for yourself?" He wanted to be bitter when he said the words, but they came out as curious instead. For weeks now, years even, he'd had his choices laid before them and Tom had pushed and prodded and pulled trying to make him chose the one that favored Voldemort's agenda. But over and over, he could never figure out what exactly that agenda was. Tom wanted power, he wanted to live forever, and he had both.

"I could," Tom acknowledged, running his hand through Hadrian's hair. "I would rather you tell me." 

"What do you want with me, Tom?" 

"I want you to be mine, and only mine." Hadrian wanted to roll his eyes. He knew this already, Tom had said as much the night before. "I have everything else I want." He waved his hand flippantly. "This is all mine. Soon, I'll have more." He stroked down Hadrian's neck and side before pressing their bodies together more. "I want you by my side." 

"As what?" Hadrian started to pull away. "I'm not some devoted sycophant who sees you as a god or some lord." Tom's grip tightened and pulled him back closer. 

"Don't you see?" He almost couldn't bare the fond way Tom was looking at him. "I don't want that. If I wanted someone who worshipped me, I'd have someone. I told you that I can't love, that doesn't mean that I can't want." Tom shifted closer. The other seemed to be thinking and it was enough to pique Hadrian's curiosity that he stopped trying to move away. Tom's dark eyes moved to him again before he began speaking again. "I wanted you for a weapon initially. Prophecies are such fickle things. When it said you would have a power that I didn't immediately I knew that could be used. I tied your life to mine and then tried to instill in you a want to live. I wanted you to fight to be alive because then you wouldn't die to try to stop me. I'd have you right where I wanted you. And then you, you wild thing, started making it obvious that you weren't mine in other ways. You would have been my weapon certainly, but you would eventually have belonged to another."

Hadrian remembered the year before, and how he and Blaise had used each other in equal measure to have what they wanted. Hadrian wanted Tom, Blaise wanted fame. It was enough to drive Tom to jealousy and Hadrian had what he wanted. 

"I wanted you to be mine in every way. You are the very equal I have made."

"You said we were alike once." 

Tom's eyes flashed. "We are. But perhaps I went too far with that. You are not me. You are wild and dangerous."

"And you're not dangerous?" He teased. 

"Oh, I am." He didn't even notice that Tom's hand had moved back upward until it wrapped around his throat. He sucked in a breath feeling the other's hand tighten, but not enough to cut off his oxygen or blood supply. Hadrian remembered who he was in bed with, literally, and how much power Tom had over life and death, his own included. He had crawled into the snake's den, he couldn't be surprised when the snake bared its fangs. 

He lunged for Tom then, smiling with no hidden satisfaction when Tom's hand moved to the back of his neck. Their lips collided and arms moved to tighten their grasps. 

"Stay," Tom whispered between harsh kisses.

"Yes." Hadrian answered, falling back under the same spell that Tom had managed to cast on him for so many years. Except now, he bathed in it. He was aware of it and he wanted it. He wanted Tom, now that he knew how much he could have. 

He rolled them so he was on top, using the same lubrication charm Tom often used on him. Tom grinned again his lips as he mimicked what Tom had done to him in the past. He likely didn't prepare the other enough compared to what Tom had done for him in the past, but the other never protested when he moved himself into position. He groaned when he finally pushed into Tom's body, feeling more on fire and electrified than he ever had in his life. Tom moaned loudly when they were finally pressed together, Harry buried in Tom's body. 

Hadrian's eyes met Tom's after a moment, their gazes locking. He didn't know what exactly trapped him in the other's gaze and why he that was the incentive he needed to begin moving. He was well aware of this part of the act, of how to move his body and where to aim his thrusts. But this, his gaze being locked so steadily with Tom's during it, how heated and charged the air was around them. Gone was the slight teasing he had done earlier. Gone was the sleepiness from the other's eyes. Tom's legs wrapped around his waist as Hadrian had done so often in the past, guiding his movements subtly as he had done with every other aspect of Hadrian's life. 

Their hands moved toward each other, fingers lacing and then resting on the bed next to Tom's head. 

Hadrian increased his movements, angling himself to find Tom's prostate over and over. His own pleasure began to build, staring low in his body and moving upward. Tom wrapped his other arm around Hadrian's body, angling every movement of his hips up into Hadrian's every thrust.

Their bodies collided over and over, Hadrian's breathing became faster and faster. Tom watched him intently, memorizing every movement of his face. 

Hadrian dropped his head onto the other's shoulder groaning as he neared his edge. 

Tom was right behind him it seemed, his body tensing with every one of Hadrian's thrusts.

It didn't take long for both of them to fall over the edge. Hadrian came with a cry whereas Tom came with a soft groan and his fingers tightening on Hadrian's shoulder. 

He pillowed his head on the other's shoulder after pulling free from him. 

"Good boy," Tom hummed. "You're mine."


	22. Happy Christmas, Hadrian

Hadrian didn't leave Tom's room until dinner, and that wasn't even really because he wanted to. He almost let Tom drag him back into the bed he spent the whole day in. But he knew he was pressing his luck as it was with Severus and James around. There was no guarantee trouble wouldn't start if he wasn't there to chase it away. That didn't stop him from practically making out with Tom in the doorway to his office before he left. Tom only bothered to dress in a pair of pants as he walked Hadrian as far as his office door. He likely would have walked him further but Hadrian wouldn't let him. He was already testing his endurance enough. Leaving Tom at the door to the classroom likely would have meant that he would have found his way back to his bed. Tom watched him go with his hands planted on the railing just outside his door. Hadrian turned back once to look at him before exiting the Defense classroom.

The first place he went was the Slytherin dorm. He was still in his Quidditch uniform, the emerald robe flowing behind him as he walked. He was lucky in that he encountered no one on the way there and there was only one person in the common room, asleep in their books. He moved to the boys' dorm quickly, shrugging out of his uniform and finding a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was standing in about fifty different directions when he looked in the mirror and he had a vivid bite just below his collar bone. It was easily covered by his shirt and would be covered by his robes for classes, but he couldn't stop himself from staring at it for a second. 

He remembered vividly when he was given the bite, the way his and Tom's bodies were pressed together, the way he held Tom's face with one hand the other clinging to his back while they rocked together, Tom on his cock and his face buried in Hadrian's neck. He had leaned back slightly as Tom's weight over his thighs and hips held him in place. Tom had shifted himself to suck and then bite into his collar bone while Hadrian did his best to thrust upward. It was harder when they were both sitting up. 

He let go of the collar of his shirt which snapped back into place, covering the bite. 

He sighed and began to walk through the dorm back into the rest of the castle. He wanted nothing more than for this all to be over, for everyone to go their separate ways. Or well, almost everyone. 

He still had two games ahead of him and N.E.W.T.s. He still had the ultimate choice to make, which side of him he was going to embrace. And all the while, he couldn't help but think how great it would be just to give in. Who was left to be affected now that wasn't already? Things had changed in the ten years before Harry Potter ever stepped for in Hogwarts at the age of eleven. What would change if Voldemort died? He had already bargained for James's, Sirus's, and Remus's lives. If Voldemort died, there would be no one who would honor that bargain. Tom had what he wanted by letting Hadrian at Pettigrew, eventually. The only thing left for Tom was to have Hadrian at his side. 

He found himself moving slower as he walked through the castle, so lost in the thought that he didn't notice someone else near him until he was suddenly dragged to the side. 

Hadrian spluttered for a moment before he realized who was standing in front of him, fuming. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" James demanded. "This is dangerous, don't you understand Harry? You're too close to him." 

He was glad for his quick thinking as he shoved his father's hand off his shirt. 

"I know what I'm doing." He hissed quietly, careful to avoid the attention of anybody passing by. "I finally know the game I'm playing." James looked at him skeptically. "Don't you understand? I have him right where I want him." 

James huffed. "Is that what you had planned when you returned? Getting so entangled with him you can't tell the difference between you two?" 

"I know who I am," Hadrian managed between gritted teeth. 

"Do you?" James demanded. "Was that really the plan all along?" He gestured to Hadrian's collarbone which had become exposed as James pulled him aside. "You know who he is. The things he's done." 

"Yes." Was the only answer Hadrian gave. 

James sighed slightly before grasping for Hadrian, dragging him into a crushing hug. He was frozen for a second before he managed to pull his arms upward and hugging his father back. 

"I can't lose you too, Harry." 

"You won't." 

James pulled back, cupping Hadrian's face between his hands. "Can you promise me that?" 

Hadrian nodded, the knot that had formed in his throat preventing him from saying anything more. James searched his eyes then nodded with him after a moment, dropping his hands. 

"You should go eat."

"Should I steal you a treacle tart?"

"You absolutely should." James smiled.

Hadrian laughed to himself, ducking his head slightly while his father playfully pushed him from the corner they were hiding in. 

This just became a whole lot harder.

* * *

By Christmas, Hadrian was ready to pull his hair out. 

He felt like he was walking on pins and needles around Tom, Severus, and James. Each expected something different out of him. Tom wanted him to be by his side, to be his and only his and to bathe in the world he made. He wanted it all, Hadrian knew that he had plans for the whole world, and he wanted Hadrian at his side when he conquered it. Severus expected him to avenge Hadrian's mother and end Voldemort once and for all. And James just wanted his son. He could appease two of them, but never all three. 

James would be the easiest. Hadrian had protected him, saved his life. He wouldn't be harmed by any of the Death Eaters or Voldemort himself. He could shuttle James off somewhere, keep him safe. James he could appease no matter what. 

But Severus and Tom were whole other animals.

For so long, Hadrian had thought he was choosing between James and Tom, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew James would take him however he was, even if he didn't agree with the person he became. James just wanted his son. But he was nothing to Severus, not really. He was the son of the man he hated and the son of the woman he loved. He was a means to an end, just as he was for what was left of the Order. 

Truthfully, he knew most of what was left of the Order. Some of the students were children of Order members, and he knew Sirius and Remus had never really stopped being Order members. 

Hadrian was the only reason Sirius and Remus were still free at the moment, not the semi prisoners James was. 

He needed more assurances before he would bother with finally making his choice. Voldemort's death would mean war. And there were so few Order members to stand against an army of Death Eaters. And he was worried that Tom would take him ever wanting to see Sirius or Remus again as a threat to his power. He could easily use that to subvert his word and have them killed. 

Hadrian was teetering on an edge that he didn't want to be on. 

"I've been thinking," James said the day before Christmas, bringing Hadrian back to reality and out of his thoughts. "Maybe after the end of your seventh year, we should just leave. Go somewhere. Forget about all of this."

Hadrian turned to study his father, watching him closely. They were sitting in the room Severus had given him to sleep in. There was a small bed, a desk, an abandoned-looking bookshelf, two leather chairs, a small fireplace, and a bedside table. It wasn't the nicest room in Hogwarts, but it was certainly cozy. 

"Don't you want revenge?" 

James sighed, leaning forward slightly and resting his elbows on his knees. He looked older than he was as he folded his hands together. 

"I did," He began. "I wanted revenge for a while, and I probably would have gotten it myself, if it weren't for you." 

"Me?"

"You're the only family I have left, Harry. My parents are dead. I had no brothers or sisters. Sirius and I are probably pretty closely related, but that's it. I have you, Sirius, and Remus and that's all. You are the most important thing in this world to me. My revenge would cost me you, and no revenge is worth that. I loved your mother, I still do. She was and is the love of my life. But I still have a piece of her in you." He shrugged. "There's a saying, 'those who see revenge should dig two graves.' I fear the second grave I dig wouldn't be mine, but yours." 

_He knows._ Hadrian thought. _He knows what I am._

But rather than say that, he just nodded. 

James stood after a moment, moving toward his bed and pulling something out from under it. He walked back toward Hadrian with an ornate box. He set it down in his lap, tapping it with his fingers. 

"I was going to wait until tomorrow to give you this, but I think maybe now is the right time." 

Hadrian shifted in his chair before looking down at the box. He had a Christmas present for James too, it was nothing special but he didn't think to bring it with him. He felt slightly awkward not having something in return, but that vanished as he opened the box. Inside, there was a photo album and on the cover was a picture of James and Lily with a baby Harry in their arms. They were waving at the camera as Lily used Harry's arm to wave for the two of them before pressing a kiss against his little hand. 

"It was your mother's," James said quietly. "I went back for it after that night and I've kept it all these years. I thought you might like it. Don't let it persuade you one way or another on your choices." Hadrian's head raised at the last bit, a tear falling from his lashes to his cheek. He didn't even know he was crying. "I've seen your struggle, I'm not foolish. But you are my son and I love you."

He nodded, grasping the memory album a little too tightly as he stood to wrap his other arm around James, hugging him tightly. 

He couldn't quite face James the next day, and the other didn't pressure him. He did, however, leave his present which included some treacle tart he stole from the kitchens for him while he slept. Hadrian planned to spend the day alone and away from everyone. 

He made it through most of the day alone, crammed in a dark corner of the library until a note found its way in between his books. He didn't even bother looking at it, knowing who was summoning him. He walked through the castle, first depositing his books in the empty Slytherin dorm. Some of the younger students had stayed, but most of the Slytherins were gone for the break, having returned home, all of Hadrian's year mates included. Hogwarts was always emptier during the winter break, but this was the first time Harry had actually seen it. Most of the professors stayed except for maybe two who visited family. The rest who were left were all orphans or nearly orphans. He couldn't help but think Sirius and Remus would have fit in perfectly. Neither of them had family outside the one they had made at Hogwarts. 

Hadrian opened the classroom door to see candlelight dancing over the walls. The sun had set already, and snow fell outside the windows, giving the large room a strange cozy feeling. He walked forward, hearing the door shut behind him softly. Small lights were flickering overhead, simulating snowfall. Harry wondered what spell it was that had them up there as they weren't attached to anything. He had seen the classroom only two days before and it was nothing like this. This didn't feel like the classroom he had known for so many years. The room he had walked through time and time again. This was different, strangely homey.

"Hello, Hadrian." Tom greeted as he walked down the stairs. 

Hadrian watched him near and the way his dark suit seemed to shimmer like it too was made of snowfall in the night.

"You didn't read my note."

"No, I-"

Tom cut him off with a wave of his hand. 

"No matter." 

With another wave of his hand, Hadrian's clothes began to shift and change on his body. By the time they were done, they were completely different. Instead of the jeans and sweater he was wearing previously, they were now similar to Tom's. The suit seemed to dance in the candlelight, streaks of red and green flickered within the fabric as though he were adorned in lights. It was a surprisingly beautiful outfit and one that Hadrian did not feel he belonged in.

Tom looked him over appreciatively, walking around him to see the whole outfit before stopping in front of him again. 

"Perfect," He purred, raising his fingers to brush over Harry's jaw. "Come here." 

Hadrian swallowed thickly, moving closer to Tom who immediately folded him in his arms. He lowered one hand to grasp Hadrian's and raised them both upward, their hands folding together. Elsewhere, music turned on. A slow waltz began to fill the room as Tom began to lead Hadrian through a dance. He couldn't look away from the other man, watching him closely as they began to slowly sway and then spin through the room. Hadrian wasn't exactly a perfect dancer, but Tom led him well, leaving no room for his two left feet to make a mistake. His grip tightened on Tom's hand, watching the other's dark eyes shimmer and shift in the candlelight. 

"How was your day?" 

He was surprised to hear the small talk that Tom offered him before he was spun outward and then back with his back pressed against Tom's chest. 

"I was in the library for most of it."

"You didn't spend it with your father?" Tom asked next to his ear. "I would have thought-" He cut himself off, spinning Hadrian once more and then folding them back together. "No matter."

"I need to ask you for something." Hadrian began, flexing his hand in Tom's grasp. 

"For what?" Tom's voice was soft.

"I need to know for certain that no harm will come to James, Sirius, or Remus." 

"I've already agreed that they wouldn't be harmed."

"That was if I came back, did our lessons again." He was spinning while he spoke only for him to fold back into Tom's embrace. "I need to know that if I made my choice, that if I joined you, that would still be the case."

Tom's breath hitched slightly. "You are considering it."

"Yes," Hadrian answered honestly. 

"No harm will come to them. If you are mine, their lives are yours to deal with how you see fit. If you want them to live, they shall live."

"And what of Severus?"

"I don't think you truly want Severus to live," Tom answered quietly, letting go of Hadrian's hand to wrap it around his back. They were slowly swaying now, their attempt at dancing long forgotten. Hadrian didn't bother answering but instead watched him closely. "Let's not talk of this anymore tonight. If you wish for more assurance, ask me tomorrow." 

He nodded slightly, losing his voice as he and Tom swayed in the center of the room. 

He was certain now that he was in love with him. Tom couldn't love him back, and part of him ached with that knowledge, but it didn't seem as though he wanted anyone else. He saw Hadrian as his equal and wanted only him. Maybe he could live with that. Maybe he could give in knowing that the people he cared about would be safe. He had enough sway to make certain Tom didn't harm them, maybe he could do more.

Did he even want to do more?

Tom was offering him a throne atop the world at his side. 

They swayed a little more, slowly moving around the room until they were near a window. The last time Hadrian had found himself in this part of the room, he had just learned that he was Voldemort's horcrux. Since then, he had sat on the other side and avoided looking at the window if he could. But mostly, he was trying to avoid his reaction after. He had practically attacked Tom, crawling into his lap and kissing him harshly. He had found that the idea of Tom owning him was as arousing as it was terrifying. He wanted to be his own person and strangely after he left, he knew he was. He was the person Tom had made, but his mind was still his own. 

He watched as Tom looked upward to the top of the window. Hadrian followed him, looking up as well. Above them hung mistletoe, dangling directly over where they stood. 

Hadrian smirked slightly. "If you wanted me to kiss you, all you had to do was ask."

Tom's lips twitched. 

He raised his hand to cup the back of the other's neck, bringing their lips together. 

"Happy Christmas, Hadrian," Tom murmured against his lips. 

"Happy Christmas, Tom." After a moment, he sighed slightly. "I didn't get you anything."

Tom leaned forward, kissing him again. "I have what I want. Right here."

"We're not good for each other." He didn't know what compelled him to say it, but he knew it was true. Tom had molded him, created him into his weapon. And Hadrian could easily manipulate him with jealousy. They were dangerous people who were constantly toeing the line with one another. 

"I know," Tom answered.

"And you still want me anyway."

"Yes." 

He accepted the next shared kiss between them, letting himself be backed up against the cold window. It was rather chaste and sweet between them right now, nothing like the harsh kisses or lust-filled ones they had shared before. Instead, it was slow. He let himself sink into their shared kisses, just as much as he wanted to sink into Tom himself. 

Why shouldn't he give in? He had no reason really not to. James would still be by his side, his loved ones would be safe.

Tom pressed against him, pressing their bodies closer as they kissed, still just as slowly and as sweetly as they had been. He moved his hand up into the other's hair, massaging his scalp as they continued to kiss but strangely nothing more. Tom was holding him as though he would break while all the while leaning his weight on him. The locket was cool against his chest, not twitching and for once not weight a ton as it had in the past. Instead, everything around him felt oddly peaceful. He felt as though he could have everything he wanted as he and Tom continued sharing soft kisses.

What more did he have to lose?


	23. The Last Game

Hadrian woke with a distinct feeling but he didn’t know what it was at first. Part of him thought maybe it was the dream he had, bleeding over into his waking life. He blinked in the morning sun filtering in through a familiar window, trying to understand what the feeling was that he was suddenly waking to. He hadn’t spent one night since Christmas in his own bed in the Slytherin dorm, not that it had been that long ago. It was only the 31st after all.

The 31st.

He shifted himself, looking up into Tom’s face above him. The other was deceptively trying to look asleep, but Hadrian knew from his breathing that he wasn’t.

“You’re staring.” He said quietly, running his hand over Hadrian’s back soothingly.

“It’s your birthday.”

Tom shifted above him, looking uncomfortable for a moment and then settling once more. "Yes," He said finally. "It is."

"Your birthday is six months from mine. Half a year apart." Hadrian could tell that Tom didn't want to talk about his birthday, likely for the reasons he shared with Hadrian when he thought him asleep. So, he shifted the subject slightly, hoping that the other would open up a little more with the statement. He wouldn't push Tom about his birthday if the other didn't want to talk about it, but it was worth mentioning in the first place. 

"Yes. That is an interesting parallel, isn't it?" Tom's eyes opened then, staring ahead of him for a moment before he looked at Hadrian in his arms. "I think it's quite fitting." 

Hadrian shuffled himself draping himself over Tom's body and pressing a kiss against his lips. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's all right. But," Hadrian smiled for a moment. "I hope you would at least let me give you your present." 

"You didn't realize it was my birthday until you woke up," Tom answered, his eyes showing his amusement and curiosity. "What could you possibly give me?"

"Well," Hadrian said, protracting the word. He could make Tom want what he had in mind, though it wouldn't be hard to achieve. "If you don't want my gift-" He let himself trail off, shifting himself off Tom's body and moving as though he were making for the bathroom. The other didn't let him go that far though, as long, strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him back against a familiar body. 

"I didn't say that," Tom whispered in his ear and Hadrian turned, capturing familiar lips. 

"Eager, are we?"

Tom shifted them so he could pin Hadrian to the bed underneath him. "Aren't you?"

Hadrian grinned and shifted upward once more to capture the other's lips. The other moved down, pressing his weight against Hadrian, ensuring that he wouldn't be going anywhere. Not that Hadrian wanted to. He let his hands explore the other's body, wondering what it would be like years from now when they had explored each other a thousand times more? Would Tom's body still have the same novelty to it? Or would it be different? Would it be like the old couples Hadrian had seen the few times he and his father ventured out when he was growing up? Would they still want to be with each other years from now when every inch of the other would be familiar?

It didn't take long for Hadrian to catch his train of thought, finding that it had taken him down a road where his path had already been chosen. And he found he wanted it. He wanted to be by Tom's side. He wanted to live. He wanted to spend a hundred more birthdays with Tom and a hundred more of Tom's birthdays with him. He wanted them to have been together, the world theirs, and still exploring each other as much as they had the first time. 

He wanted Tom. 

The other seemed to sense this, or had been roaming around in Hadrian's mind, because his kisses grew deeper as his lower body ground against his own, cocks dragging together through thin sleep pants. 

It wasn't as though the pants were an issue anymore as Hadrian quickly waved his hand and vanished both. Tom groaned against his lips, fisting his hand in Hadrian's hair to pull it back slightly and pillage his mouth. 

None of this was new to them and yet he was still as satisfied as he had been the first time they were together. For over a year, he had found his way again and again into Tom's arms. Even when Tom wasn't physically present and it was his soul, Hadrian was drawn to him. He couldn't stay away and he didn't want to. 

The other grasped one of Hadrian's hands in his own, their fingers lacing together and dropping to the bed next to them. 

He wondered what was next for them, after this year and these games were over. What would become of Hadrian and Tom? What would become of the world when Tom set his sights on something further, wanting Hadrian at his side. Would he aim him like the weapon he had originally planned Hadrian to be? Or would he want them conquering the world together? 

Maybe the world could be made better with the two of them together. Maybe it didn't have to be made in just Tom's image, but Hadrian's as well. He could do some good for the world. They would disagree on policies, though it seemed like the pureblood supremacy was limited to the country they were in so perhaps Tom would abandon that idea when they looked outward. Perhaps he could make a difference to ensure no one would suffer the same fate as his mother just because of her blood status. 

Tom hummed against his lips before turning his attentions to Hadrian's neck. 

"I'll give you the world my beautiful. Just tell me how you want it. And it's yours."

"Right now," Hadrian answered, a bit breathless. "I just want you." 

"You can have that too. I'm yours."

Their lips found each other's again as Hadrian used the same lubrication charm used between them hundreds of times by now. Tom shifted himself, bringing his knees up next to Hadrian's hips before slowly impaling himself on Hadrian's cock. This, however, was a relatively new feeling. Tom hadn't let him do this when they were first together, it was always Hadrian who was penetrated. But given that somewhere along the way, Tom wanted him for more than just the weapon he could be, he assumed his need for control was lessened just a bit allowing himself to let go and for someone else to give him what he so clearly enjoyed. What they both enjoyed. 

He waited for Tom to settle himself, watching the way the other's face went through a series of pleasure before the other began to move. Hadrian moved with him, waiting until Tom's body began to move down when the thrust up into him.

He was still becoming used to this aspect of their relationship, but he relished it every time. He had only started taking more control not that long before, after his Quidditch game. But it had been worth it. Worth it to see this, the beautiful way Tom's face would shift as they moved in tandem. Worth it to feel Tom's body moving at will when Hadrian turned them to pin the other to the bed, taking the control that Tom had relinquished to him.

And wasn't that a sight to see? Tom was Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord. He had killed people before. He had fought at war, traveled the world, took over a school, and then all the magical beings within an area because he could. And yet he had given up control to Hadrian, the fated architect of his doom. 

Hadrian thrust slowly at first, watching the way Tom's face shifted with each thrust until the other's mouth finally formed a small 'o' indicating that Hadrian had found his prostate. He aimed for that spot over and over, snapping his hips forward to find it again and again. 

The only downside about being Tom's horcrux, other than his thoughts were never his own, was the way their pleasure would tangle between them. It was so easy to lose himself in that snowball of pleasure that rolled back and forth between them, building every time. He had tried before not to fall into it, not to allow himself to take Tom's pleasure as his own and to keep a distance. But he couldn't. Tom's pleasure, Tom in general, was intoxicating to him. So when he began to feel the other's pleasure build, he fell into it willingly. 

His lips found Tom's throat, kissing him over and over as best he could while still thrusting into the other. Their bodies collided in wet slaps that echoed off the walls, sounds so familiar that they could have been from any other time they had done this and it would still be music to his ears. 

He knew it would be for Tom too, as the other was busying himself by marveling how he, of all people, had managed to ensnare Hadrian for himself. His only plan had been to mold a weapon. Not to find someone who he could go as close to love as he possibly could for someone who thought they couldn't feel love. 

But Hadrian wasn't entirely certain that Tom couldn't love. Another time, he would ask him if he had ever really tried loving someone, even Hadrian. Or if he was so convinced that he couldn't love that he never tried, even when he had Hadrian. 

Not that Hadrian was such an expert on love. He knew he loved his father, he knew he loved his uncles. And he was more than certain that he loved Tom. But he didn't know if the love he felt was anything like what other people felt. 

He knew his father had loved his mother dearly, but he also knew that James hadn't let that love consume him because he loved his son too. How easily his love could have turned into revenge and he could have used Hadrian as the weapon so many thought he could be. But James didn't let his love for his wife poison his love for his son. He valued the living more than the dead. 

But would Hadrian be like that?

He thought about what would happen if someone tried to take Tom from him if one day he found Tom dead. 

He was certain he'd tear apart the world to find who did it.

Maybe there were different kinds of love. Maybe for James, paternal love could overpower his love for his wife. And for Hadrian, his love of Tom could overpower even his best instincts. 

His lips met the other's once again, the two of them losing themselves in each other. 

It didn't take long for Hadrian to lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He only wanted Tom and to stay buried within him for as long as possible. 

Tom seized up from his orgasm first, his body tightening around Hadrian's cock and making it that it only took another few thrusts for Hadrian to spill into the other. 

They were silent for a long time, the two of them just holding onto one another. But he knew that Tom had heard his thoughts, knew what his final choice was. 

When Hadrian left Hogwarts, he wouldn't be leaving Tom.

* * *

The beginning of the semester started as it always did, with professors welcoming back the students after the winter break and then reminding them of the work that still needed to be done. 

N.E.W.T.s were coming and Hadrian, though distracted by much else, still had to worry about them. Even with the next game coming quickly. But the N.E.W.T.s and the upcoming games didn't bother him. There was no way he was doing terribly on his upcoming tests since he had been training at the N.E.W.T. level since before he even completed his O.W.L.s. Any information they could throw at him was information he and Tom had gone over years before. He supposed it was one of the more advantageous things to come out of his lessons with Tom was that he was more prepared than any other student, including Draco. 

The third game came and went too quickly. 

It was a Quidditch game, which meant that Hadrian would win it easily, especially considering that he was the only Quidditch player competing. It was made even easier by the fact that the game was essentially Hadrian's role in every Quidditch game ever. Catch the snitch. But catch the right one. The others would knock a player from their broom and they would have to start all over again. Hadrian had sat on the sides for a little while, watching and waiting to see which snitch was the right one. He watched the others, especially Neville Longbottom, fall from their brooms over and over while he circled the pitch like a lazy buzzard. He barely even mustered any energy when the real snitch moved right by him, only reaching his hand up and catching it so quickly that most didn't even notice it until the massive canon on the side of the arena rang out. Hadrian landed, handing the snitch to one of the professors on the ground, and continued forward, ignoring the cheering arena behind him.

Or really one section was cheering. 

At this point, Hadrian could lose the last challenge and Slytherin would still win. He had won all three games before it, all of the Quidditch games, and they were ahead in house points from classes. 

The months between the games flew by as classes came and went, arguments between James and Severus came and went, and days spent falling asleep and waking up in Tom's bed came and went. Hadrian had fallen into a delicate pattern. 

He should have realized that the pattern was going to break. 

And break it did. 

A week before the last game, Hadrian's parchment changed, revealing the final game.

_Congratulations. You are one of the final contestants qualified for the last game._

_You Hadrian Krínos and Neville Longbottom are the only two contestants to compete in the game._

_The goal: Survive._

_You will be tested in ways you haven't yet. Use all resources available to you. Hopefully, you will keep your wits about you._

Hadrian studied the parchment for a week when the very day of the last game, it went up in flames. He hoped that didn't detail what the last game would be like overall. 

It was a Friday night, one of the last Fridays before the end of his seventh year and his time at Hogwarts overall. He hadn't yet told James about his plans, about how he wanted to stay with Tom, mostly because he couldn't force himself to look in his father's eyes and say he was in love with his mother's killer. Though he knew James knew that already. Instead, he danced around it and Tom never made a move to try to force him to tell. Hadrian had spent countless days in Tom's bed, and even afternoons were still spent at Tom's side. It was unlikely that James didn't know, but when they were together, he never pushed. 

Hadrian found himself standing just outside one of the two entrances to what he could only assume was a maze, though it was hard to tell past the massive stone structures ahead of him. On his right side was a potion and a duplicate of it was next to Neville Longbottom who was somewhere to his left. He stared ahead of him, trying to see in the dark that he knew he would be walking into at any moment. He ignored Barty's congratulations and praising of how he and Neville had made it so far. He ignored when the headmaster congratulated the other two champions and he ignored the eyes of all those around him. Except for one pair. 

Tom was directly behind him as he stood at his entrance to the unknown, but he could feel the weight of those dark eyes on him. 

Tom had given him a rather deep kiss before he left today and for a moment, Hadrian wondered if the older man worried for his safety. He didn't dwell on it for too long though as he spent the day going over every spell, charm, curse, and potion he had ever learned at Hogwarts, even if it was during his private lessons. By the time the night finally came and he and Neville were placed before the massive stone entrances, he was exhausted. 

But that exhaustion didn't last. Adrenaline coursed through his veins now. He was a live wire about to be set off. 

He heard Barty very briefly tell them that when the cannon sounded, they were to drink the potions and then enter the dark. 

Hadrian looked down at the potion, but strangely enough, it was one he didn't recognize. It was silvery and swirled in its container and within it, Hadrian could vaguely see faces but they had no real definition before they sunk back into the silvery depths. 

Time seemed to slow as he waited for the cannon to sound. He could hear his every heartbeat. The cheering crowd didn't matter. James and Severus's eyes didn't matter. He forced Tom's eyes not to matter. Even though he knew he could lose this, he knew it would be dangerous enough that he could lose his mind if not careful. And that would do no one any good. 

Lub dub. 

Lub dub.

Lub dub.

_**BOOM.** _

The cannon thundered. 

Hadrian uncorked the potion and muttered to himself before bringing it to his lips and downing the silvery liquid. It tasted like acid on his tongue and for a moment, he wondered if his tongue would burn before he shook himself, forcing his body to move forward and between the stones. 

They slid shut behind him with several dull thuds and he was alone in the darkness.

That was when the voices started. 

_Harry. Harry. Harry. Hadrian. Harry. Hadrian. Harry._

Before him suddenly appeared Draco, looking exactly as he had in the stands just moments before. His blond hair was tousled, his grey eyes had slight rings around them from the stress of N.E.W.T.s, and his tie was slightly off-center. Hadrian shook his head. 

Draco wasn't actually in front of him. It must have been the potion. But that didn't stop the apparition from cocking its head. 

" _Who are you?"_ It asked, its voice sounding like a thousand Dracos speaking softly all at once. 

Hadrian pushed forward and through the apparition which disappeared quickly. He kept one hand on the wall next to him as his world began spinning under his feet. He was certain at one point his eyes began to spin in his sockets as his head felt as though it were whirling around his body. The voices continued, calling out to him from somewhere in his mind. 

_Harry. Harry. Hadrian._

_"Who are you?"_ Another voice asked and this time, it came from the mouth of a girl, not much older than Hadrian. She had bright red hair and emerald eyes. Her smile was the same one Hadrian had often offered and after a moment, he realized the girl in front of him was his mother. _"Are you Harry Potter? Are you Hadrian Krínos? Who are you?"_

He gritted his teeth and pushed past her, feeling nothing as he went through where she once stood. 

The darkness pulsed around him and he felt at any moment as though he might rock backward and fall onto the hard ground under him. But somehow he managed to stay upright. He didn't even know what he was looking for, only that he had to keep moving forward. 

_"You are willing to choose the man who murdered your mother,"_ James took shape in front of him. _"Because you love him. The same man who once tried to kill you."_

The apparition changed and this time as Hadrian tried to move through it, it moved with him. 

_"Is it because you bare his soul?"_ The now Severus apparition asked. _"How do you know where you end and he begins? Are you even Hadrian or Harry? Perhaps you are Tom Riddle. Voldemort."_

"Shut up." He muttered through gritted teeth. 

He continued, pushing forward until the darkness began to grow red around the edges. The ground under his feet began to feel unsteady and as he looked up, the apparition before him began changing faces. First, it was Severus, and then James again, then Tom, then his mother, then Draco, then Severus, then someone who he was certain was Peter Pettigrew, then Draco again, then Blaise, then Tom, then his mother, then James, and finally himself. Every version asked the same question over and over. 

Who was he?

He was swaying as he straightened to face the person who was so clearly him but also not at the same time. The other person looked just as world-weary as him, except his face was softer, kinder. He hadn't grown as hard as Hadrian had. This other version of him very clearly still wanted Voldemort's death, still saw Tom as Voldemort rather than the very person Hadrian had grown to love. 

This was Harry Potter. 

Hadrian narrowed his eyes at his other self who stared back at him. 

_"So,"_ The other said, watching him. _"It's down to you. And it's down to me."_ Emerald eyes watched him closely. _"It's time for you to choose who you will be. Are you Hadrian Krínos, the boy, the man, who fell in love with his mother's murderer? Or are you Harry Potter, the man who is supposed to set right that which is very clearly wrong. What will you choose? Who will you become? Are you the dark?"_ Harry gestured to him. _"Or are you the light?"_ Harry gestured to himself. _"Will you sacrifice to end Voldemort? Or will you continue to love Tom? Will you betray the memory of your mother?_

_"Who are you?"_

"Shut up!" Hadrian yelled, pulling out his wand. The other pulled out his wand, an identical wand. There was only one way this would end. 

Only one of them would walk out of this arena.

Who would it be? 

Hadrian Krínos? Harry Potter?

Both?

Neither?

Hadrian wanted to live. He wasn't going to die for a cause that was dead already. Tom had won. Voldemort had won. And without Tom, he barely knew who he was anymore. 

He thought back to Tom's birthday and how he had resolved with himself that he would burn down the world if something happened to Tom. 

Here was his chance. This was his world at the moment. Here he was and there was Harry Potter.

Who would walk away?

Who would he be?

Who was he?

Hadrian raised his wand, the words springing to his mind but not his lips. 

It was silent. Wordless.

An emerald light erupted from the edge of his wand, extinguishing the emerald across from him. 

Harry Potter was dead.

But rather than finding himself looking down at Harry Potter's body as the potion began to fade, his mind coming back to him and the ground solidifying, he found he was staring at someone else entirely. 

Neville Longbottom. 


	24. The Rise of Hadrian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said a main character would die?? Neville was not a main character.

Everything exploded. Or, James would have expected it to anyway. 

Instead, the professors were absolutely calm as though they hadn't just watched one student murder another. The whole of Slytherin house was still and quiet, though the other houses especially Gryffindor were up in arms. Harry stared at the body of his fellow student, the student he killed, for a long moment as though he wasn't certain what he was seeing. Seconds later Voldemort vanished from the stands and appeared next to Harry in the arena. His arms wrapped around him and suddenly the two were gone, leaving James and everyone else behind. 

That was two weeks ago. 

fIn that time, the semester ended and the seventh year students left, ready to begin their careers. Harry hadn't been seen or heard from in that time and no one could find him. James had reluctantly asked for Remus and Sirius to leave their hideouts to find Harry. But nothing worked. No spells, no potions, no charms. Nothing. It was as though Harry had vanished off the face of the earth. James even resorted to dark magic for a moment, using his own blood to try to find Harry but it was to no avail. James, Remus, and Sirius scoured the countryside, looking for any sign of Harry.

Severus had also apparently been looking, given that the man showed up one day on James's doorstep with no news and an even bleaker statement. 

It seemed Harry had made a deal and from what James could guess, based on what Severus knew, he had essentially traded himself for Remus, Sirius, and James. He had given himself to Voldemort so that they might be spared. 

There was a funeral for Neville Longbottom in the week after his death that James had hoped maybe Harry would show up to, to some remorse for the death at his hands. But Harry hadn't made an appearance. He did, however, recognize Frank Longbottom's mother, the only Longbottom left alive. Frank and Alice were slaughtered the same night James took flight with Harry in hand after Voldemort had come for him. 

The world looked bleak. 

So, he didn't even bother fighting back when Lucius Malfoy appeared, a near maniacal grin on his face. He went willingly with the older Malfoy. It was his last hope to try to find his son. Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater and one of Voldemort's most loyal. If nothing else, he hoped he would be brought to Voldemort himself so that he might ask where his son was before he was murdered. Before Harry's deal was broken. 

He walked ahead of Lucius until the other stopped him, grasping his arm, and the two apparated. James hadn't apparated in years, but the feeling was one that he never forgot. He was shrunk and stuffed through a tube before they were forced out the other side. His stomach was churning and the feeling was only made worse by the sight that greeted him. 

He had never seen Malfoy manor before, though the ominous black gates in front of the manor did not help the overall ominous feeling he had. He was marched forward, though he tore himself from Lucius's grasp. If he was to die, he would die with pride. At least he would be reunited with Lily soon enough. The manor rose above him as though it could touch the sky. Another lifetime he might have been here soon, if the Malfoys weren't so absorbed in their pureblood mania or if James's parents had decided to embrace it. A world in which Voldemort never existed was a world where James and Lucius would have crossed paths sooner. Both were purebloods, both would have worked for the Ministry. He would have stepped up to the ominous manor in front of him without feeling its overbearing presence on him. But this was not that lifetime. 

And there was someone he still had to see. 

When they finally were maneuvered through the house to what James was certain was a ballroom, he was greeted by several familiar faces. 

Sirius and Remus were already there, standing in the middle of the room. Peter Pettigrew was cowering off to one side by the window as though he was hoping the light would silhouette him enough that he wasn't seen. But James saw him. And his blood boiled. It took everything in him not to lunge at his former friend. If not for him, if they hadn't put their trust in him thinking he deserved it, Lily might still have been alive. Neville Longbottom might still have been alive. So many people could still be alive if it weren't for the one person who won Voldemort the war. James tore his gaze away from Pettigrew, seeing red around the edges. 

"I wanted to kill him too," Sirius muttered when James stopped at his side. "They wouldn't let me."

James didn't need to ask who they were. 

In front of him stood several Death Eaters and James recognized them all. 

He knew Barty Crouch Jr. who he had seen at Hogwarts. He knew Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's cousin. He knew Lucius Malfoy and had glimpsed his son, Draco, in the back of the room. Even Severus was there, standing off to the side and looking wary. 

The only people that weren't there were Harry and Voldemort. 

They stood there, the lot of them, in silence for what felt like an eternity. 

Seconds turned to minutes and he was certain those minutes turned to hours. The Death Eaters didn't move and while now and then Pettigrew would whimper in the corner, there was no other noise. He could barely hear his own heart in the silence. Remus and Sirius shifted next to him but otherwise, it seemed they were in some kind of strange stalemate. No one could move without causing tension, so they all stood incredibly still as though they could make the others forget they were there. 

They waited.

And waited. 

And waited. 

Finally, right when James's patience was about to break, the door in the back of the room swung open. 

Harry was the first one through it, nearly gliding across the ballroom until he collided with James, his arms wrapping around him a tight hug. James was so stunned to have his son in his arms that for a moment, he forgot to hug him back. But he came to himself, wrapping his arms around a strangely intact Harry. After a moment, Harry pulled away, looking him over closely as though James was the one who disappeared for two weeks rather than the other way around. He looked at Sirius and Remus next and eventually seemed satisfied with their treatment. 

"Did they hurt you?" He asked softly. 

"No," James answered, looking over Harry. He looked exactly the same as before, nothing outwardly different about him. But he couldn't force the image out of his mind of Harry standing over Neville Longbottom's body, emotionless. "Are you all right?" 

"Yes," Harry answered. 

It was then that James noticed the person standing just behind Harry's left shoulder.

Voldemort.

The other was back a bit, watching the interaction between father and son with mild amusement. Harry turned his head slightly to look at the man behind him and then back to James. 

"We'll talk more later." He said softly before retreating, moving to stand next to Voldemort. 

James knew this was coming. But that didn't mean that part of him still wasn't hurt and angry, seeing Harry stand shoulder to shoulder with the man who killed Lily. Remus and Sirius though were more than hurt and angry. Both were equally shocked, jaws on the floor, at Harry retreating to stand next to the very man he was originally fated to kill. But when he looked at where Harry stood, he couldn't help but see the little boy at the edge of the hall, waking from a nightmare. He was still Harry, James's son with bright emerald eyes and wild hair. He was still part him and part Lily, no matter how terrible the things he had done or what he would continue to do. 

And James loved him. No matter what. 

He was still his son. 

He knew his friends too well though and he knew the moment Sirius was about ready to start picking fights. He wasn't allowed after Pettigrew, there was no way he'd be able to go after Voldemort, so that left either his cousin or Harry. 

James held him back, but the moment he stepped forward, he caught Bellatrix's attention. 

Her eyes flamed with madness and James knew she had been waiting for any chance to dispatch one of them. 

Sirius didn't even manage to say a word when Bellatrix's wand was drawn and aimed at him. Remus and James both grabbed at Sirius, expecting a Cruciatus Curse.

What was sent was much worse. 

James would never forget that sickening emerald light. He had seen it aimed at Lily. He had seen it aimed at Harry. He had seen it aimed at Neville Longbottom. And now it was flying toward them once again, this time for Sirius. Time went sluggishly once more. 

He was certain they would all die. 

Harry's deal was broken. 

James almost jumped in front of the curse, willing to die to save a friend, when the emerald stopped in mid-air. 

It was a breath from Sirius, so close that if he even so much as leaned forward, he would die. The curse was crackling and angry in front of them, as though it were a leashed wild animal trying to reach for a bloody steak. 

James stared at it for too long, his heart completely silent in his chest. He thought he couldn't hear it before. It was nothing compared to not hearing it now. He was certain he died. He was dead. And the curse was the last thing he would ever see. 

Until his heartbeat returned. 

It was thudding in his chest, louder than ever as he realized the curse was still hovering in front of him, never having reached its target. Next to him, Sirius was statue still, his eyes the size of quaffles and barely breathing. Remus on his other side was also incredibly still, his body frozen as he looked back and forth between the curse and its intended target. Over the curse, shrouded in emerald, was Bellatrix her eyes wide and jaw on the floor. 

But it didn't make any sense. Nothing could stop an unforgivable, especially not when unleashed. There was no counter curse, nothing that could save them except for moving out of the way. But they didn't even have time to move or react in any way. And yet the curse was still hovering there.

James forced his head to turn, trying to find Voldemort. He was the only person that James could think of who was anywhere near powerful enough to stop the killing curse. But even Voldemort had shock written all over his face before his head turned to Harry at his right. 

James forced his gaze to move to Harry too. 

Harry was standing with his hand outstretched and shaking. His magic manifested around him and in him, making the skin around his eyes ripple as though it were running into his eyes and making them an even brighter shade of emerald. Harry was breathing heavily, looking as though he were physically straining just to keep the curse in place. But rather than tell anyone to move, he watched as Harry inhaled and then, with a grunt and a wave of his hand, sent the curse flying toward Pettigrew. 

Peter dropped like a rock and Harry exhaled, his body slumping slightly. 

"I don't take kindly to disobedience," Harry's voice was nothing like the kind boy who greeted him. He was stern and hard, his magic still pulsing around him, though not nearly as much. His eyes were cruel and hard as he turned to look at Bellatrix. "Next time, it will be you."

* * *

Hadrian barely remembered anything significant about what happened after that night in the arena. 

He remembered staring down at the body of Neville Longbottom, not really comprehending that it wasn't Harry Potter on the ground in front of him. He heard something around him, though he couldn't pinpoint what, and then suddenly there was Tom, the one person he truly wanted to see. 

The other wrapped him in his arms and they were gone. Hadrian buried himself in Tom at first, seeking comfort from the one person he knew wouldn't judge what he had just done. Not that he could fully comprehend what he had done. All he knew what he had chosen, and he had sealed his choice finally in blood. 

Hadrian found himself clinging to a familiar body, pressing himself close just to have some sort of comfort. But what astounded him was that Tom was offering it. The other hadn't let him go, tucking Hadrian under his chin and holding him tightly. The other radiated a calm that Hadrian clung to, needing it to seep into him and calm him down. 

"Did you know?" He asked finally. "What I would see?"

"No. I knew the potion was a hallucinogen. But what you saw was unique to you. I can't control that." Tom was silent for a moment before running his hand through Hadrian's wild hair. "What did you see?"

"You weren't watching?" 

"No."

Hadrian shifted himself, burying his face in Tom's chest for a moment before sighing. "I saw him. Harry." His hands tightened in the fabric of Tom's shirt. "That was who I thought I killed."

Tom's grip tightened on him for a moment, Hadrian caught a flash of something. 

Fear. 

Fear at his death. 

But that abated just as quickly as it came. The other shifted, burying his nose in Hadrian's hair. "You're here. You're alive. And with me." 

"I killed him." He said quietly. "Neville I mean." 

"I know." 

He turned his head, angling himself so that he could look at the other man. And Tom looked right back at him, no different than he had that morning. 

Hadrian let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. 

They moved forward at the same time, their lips meeting somewhere between them. 

The next two weeks were spent in Tom's bed. They would only leave to eat or use the bathroom but the rest of the time they were either tangled together or asleep. Owls came and left that Tom ignored, people knocked at doors and he was certain he heard a spell or two once, but nothing could breach them. They were in their own world, wrapped in each other. They turned this way and that, explored each other's bodies a thousand times over. They woke in each other's embrace and fell asleep locked together. Their lips met a thousand times and then a thousand more. 

He didn't even realize two weeks had passed when Tom finally grew annoyed with the series of owls landing at the windowsill. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Hadrian in the bed to move to the window, grasping at the various letters without even bothering to dress himself. Not that Hadrian minded. 

"It looks like we've been brought a present," He muttered, turning back toward Hadrian. "My Death Eaters have taken it upon themselves to take your father and uncles." Hadrian huffed. "They already know not to harm them." Tom continued before turning and dropping the letters on the table. "Though I suppose they are our Death Eaters now." 

"Really?" Hadrian asked, mostly in disbelief. 

"Does that surprise you?"

"A little." 

Tom moved toward the bed, pulling the covers off Hadrian and pressing their bodies close together. "How much more do you need before you realize that I would share everything with you? I am going to give you the world, Hadrian." 

He ran his hand through the other's hair, watching his dark eyes closely. 

"Then tell me the truth." 

Hadrian had been waiting for this moment. The moment he could finally demand what he really wanted. What he had sensed for days, weeks. Months.

What he knew the other was hiding from everyone including himself because he was afraid of what it would mean.

Of the truth. 

Tom searched his eyes before pressing forward until their lips brushed but he didn't kiss him. 

"I love you." 

Their lips did meet then, briefly, before Hadrian pulled away. "Again." 

"I love you." 

Another kiss. 

"Again."

"I love you." 

"I love you too." 

He knew their arrival would be delayed by the fact that they were currently losing themselves again in a familiar activity, but he had what he wanted, knew he had been right all along. But more than anything, he was strangely happy to know that the one thing Tom had been lying to himself about or previously believed was true, he threw out the window for Hadrian. 

And he loved him for that. 

And hours later, after having stopped the killing curse in mid-air, adrenaline rushing through his veins and high on magic, he thought he could fly on his own. But it was only made worse by what happened when they returned to what he could only assume was their home. 

Tom grasped him, turning him in his arms, and pressed a harsh kiss against his lips. The other's kisses continued down his body as he dropped to his knees, his face filled with awe and his grip on Hadrian tight. 

"Hadrian," He said softly before pressing another kiss against his abdomen. 

"I want to ask you something." 

Hadrian forced himself to look at the other, opening his eyes to find Tom on his knees in front of him, his eyes completely focused on Hadrian's face. 

"Marry me, Hadrian." 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://neurowriter14.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/NWriter14)


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